“The Title of Liberty,” Ensign, Sept. 1973, 31
For our tenth-year day I made for my love
A coat of finest skins.
How proudly he wore it
And how I delighted in him,
His head held high.
He was wearing it when he led our warriors
In the defense of Manti;
My heart, my hopes, and my arms were my gift
Hourly he was in my eyes.
I felt the coat’s smooth front against my cheek
When, magnanimous in victory,
My love returned
And lifted me to his kiss.
Then when Amalickiah
Contended for the judgment seat,
Promising peace, rapport with the enemy,
And a lowering of taxes,
And only subtly suggesting monarchy,
Himself the king;
And many of our friends,
Grown tired of wars,
With loss of husbands, fathers, sons,
Lent listening ears,
For most of a day
My husband sat hunched in the sun,
His coat tight across his back,
Head bowed, eyes brooding.
At dawn I heard the clank of metal
And shivered in my nightdress as I knelt
To share his fervent prayer.
My eyes were wide as he took his cimeter
And rent asunder the coat,
Then wrote upon it his loves:
God, the church, freedom, his wives, our children,
And raised it upon a pole.
How glorious there in that early morning light
The rent coat, making my husband,
And all who repaired to it, whole.
(See Alma 46–51.)