VI
Last, all his duty done,—
All the dark bondmen freed,
The long-sought leader found, the piteous victory won,—
Arrived for him one hour of April sun
Wherein he breathed free as the forest again,
In glad goodwill to men
Nursing some vast forgiveness in his mind.
Then—all turned blank and blind.
Dare we remember the tragic lilac-time
Crimsoned with that mad crime?
Nay, hush! Ye have heard how sacrifice must close
The supreme service; ’tis the way God chose.