Before her judges Charlotte stands, undaunted, undismayed,
While eyes that never wept are wet with pity for the maid,
Unstained as beautiful she stands before the judgment seat,
Resigned to fate, her heart is calm while others wildly beat!
Alas! too sure her doom is read in those stern faces, while
Fear from her looks affrighted fled, where shone Minerva’s smile;
Hope she had none, or, if perchance she had, that hope was gone,
Yet in its stead ’twas not despair but brightest triumph shone!
“What was the cause?” “His crimes,” she said, her bleeding country’s foe,
Inspired her hand, impelled the steel, and laid the tyrant low;