The Brothers met—the angry spirit fled. 100
Few words were needed—in the look of each
There was a language words can never reach;
But, when they took each other’s hand, and press’d,
Subsiding tumult sank to endless rest;
Nor party wrath with quick affection strove,
Drown’d in the tears of reconciling love.
Affairs confused, and business at a stand,
Were soon set right by Charles’s powerful hand;
The rudest mind in this rude place enjoy’d