XIII.
He gazed before, he glanced behind;
There, o'er the steep rock seems to wind
The devious, scarce-seen path, a snake
In slime and sloth might, labouring, make.
With a wild cry he springs;—he crawls;
Crag upon crag he clears;—and falls
Breathless and mute; and o'er him stands,
Pale as himself, the chasing foe—
Mercy! what mean those claspèd hands,
Those lips that tremble so?
XIV.
"Thou hast cursed my life, my wealth despoil'd;
My hearth "is cold, my name is soil'd;
The wreck of what was Man, I stand
'Mid the lone sea and desert land!
Well, I forgive thee all; but be
A human voice and face to me!
O stay—O stay—and let me yet
One thing, that speaks man's language, know!—
The waste hath taught me to forget
That earth once held a foe!"
XV.
O Heaven! methinks, from thy soft skies,
Look'd tearful down the angel-eyes;
Back to those walls to mark them go,
Hand clasp'd in hand—the Foe and Foe!
And when the sun sunk slowly there,
Low knelt the prayerless man in prayer.
He knelt, no more the lonely one;
Within, secure, a comrade sleeps;
That sun shall not go down upon
A desert in the deeps.
XVI.
He knelt—the man who half till then
Forgot his God in loathing men,—
He knelt, and pray'd that God to spare
The Foe to grow the Brother there;
And, reconciled by Love to Heaven,
Forgiving—was he not forgiven?
"Yes, man for man thou didst create;
Man's wrongs, man's blessings can atone!
To learn how Love can spring from Hate—
Go, Hate,—and live alone."