His martyr’d brother and his sire are laid,
Feels every deep resolve and burning thought
Of ampler vengeance e’en to passion wrought;
Yet is the hour afar—and he must brood
O’er those dark dreams awhile in solitude.
Tumult and rage are hush’d—another day
In still solemnity hath pass’d away,
In that deep slumber of exhausted wrath,
The calm that follows in the tempest’s path.
And now Abdallah leaves yon peaceful fane,