Step lofty; for this name is told
As far as cannon dwell,
Or flag subsist, or fame export
Her deathless syllable.
V.
Morns like these we parted;
Noons like these she rose,
Fluttering first, then firmer,
To her fair repose.
Never did she lisp it,
And 't was not for me;
She was mute from transport,
I, from agony!
Till the evening, nearing,
One the shutters drew —
Quick! a sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!
VI.
A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.
VII.
I read my sentence steadily,
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause, —
The date, and manner of the shame;
And then the pious form
That "God have mercy" on the soul
The jury voted him.