Thorough his ancient realm, and the last woes
Go over her; his own victorious arm
Shall rid the stricken land of hate and foes.”
[pg 17]
So leave we them, each head inaureoled
With the awakening spring’s young sunlight-gold.
Then, on an evening, hurrying footsteps rung
Without the door, and straight ’twas open flung,
They saw who stood therein, and each one knew
The face unspared by years and strife and shame,