A right foot rested on the dead,
A black hand reach'd and clutch'd a beard,
Then neither prayed, nor dreamed of hope ...
A fierce face reach'd, a fierce face peer'd ...
No bat went whirling overhead,
No star fell out of Ethiope....
The dead man lay between them there,
The two men glared as tigers glare,
The black man held him by the beard.
He wound his hand, he held him fast,