His patient glance, with such an aspect high,
So firm, so calm, in holy majesty,
That e’en th’ assassins’ hearts a moment shook
Before the grandeur of that kingly look;
And a strange thrill of pity, half-renew’d,
Ran through the bosoms of the multitude.
Like Him, who, breathing mercy to the last,
Pray’d till the bitterness of death was past—
E’en for his murderers pray’d, in that dark hour