And said “Avenge me!” Therefore have I raised
The tomahawk, and strung the bow again,
That I may send the shadow from my couch,
And take the strange sound from the cataract,
And sleep once more.
Herrmann. A better path, my son!
Unto the still and dewy land of sleep,
My hand in peace can guide thee—e’en the way
Thy dying brother trod. Say, didst thou love
That lost one well?