XIV.
His leathern cap aside was flung,
And o'er his brow the dark locks hung
In wild confusion, as he stood
Amid that haunted solitude,
Raising the blazing torch to throw
Upon the pictured face its glow.
In him a careless eye might see
A semblance of that face in life;
With more of fire and energy
To brave the storm and strife;
With more of earthly hope to claim,
And less of Heaven—yet still the same.