XXXI.
"The woman in me conquered. What a slave
To our emotions are we! To relent
At this long-waited moment!—Wave on wave
Of pitying weakness swept me, and I bent
And kissed his face. Then prayed to God; and gave
My trust to God; and left to God th' event.—
I never looked on Rupert's face again,
For in that morning's combat—he was slain.