7.
Like rabid snakes, that sting some gentle child
Who brings them food, when winter false and fair _1775
Allures them forth with its cold smiles, so wild
They rage among the camp;—they overbear
The patriot hosts—confusion, then despair,
Descends like night—when ‘Laon!’ one did cry;
Like a bright ghost from Heaven that shout did scare _1780
The slaves, and widening through the vaulted sky,
Seemed sent from Earth to Heaven in sign of victory.
8.
In sudden panic those false murderers fled,
Like insect tribes before the northern gale:
But swifter still, our hosts encompassed _1785
Their shattered ranks, and in a craggy vale,
Where even their fierce despair might nought avail,
Hemmed them around!—and then revenge and fear
Made the high virtue of the patriots fail:
One pointed on his foe the mortal spear— _1790
I rushed before its point, and cried ‘Forbear, forbear!’
9.
The spear transfixed my arm that was uplifted
In swift expostulation, and the blood
Gushed round its point: I smiled, and—‘Oh! thou gifted
With eloquence which shall not be withstood, _1795
Flow thus!’ I cried in joy, ‘thou vital flood,
Until my heart be dry, ere thus the cause
For which thou wert aught worthy be subdued—
Ah, ye are pale,—ye weep,—your passions pause,—
’Tis well! ye feel the truth of love’s benignant laws. _1800
10.
‘Soldiers, our brethren and our friends are slain.
Ye murdered them, I think, as they did sleep!
Alas, what have ye done? the slightest pain
Which ye might suffer, there were eyes to weep,
But ye have quenched them—there were smiles to steep _1805
Your hearts in balm, but they are lost in woe;
And those whom love did set his watch to keep
Around your tents, truth’s freedom to bestow,
Ye stabbed as they did sleep—but they forgive ye now.
11.
‘Oh wherefore should ill ever flow from ill, _1810
And pain still keener pain for ever breed?
We all are brethren—even the slaves who kill
For hire, are men; and to avenge misdeed
On the misdoer, doth but Misery feed
With her own broken heart! O Earth, O Heaven! _1815
And thou, dread Nature, which to every deed
And all that lives, or is, to be hath given,
Even as to thee have these done ill, and are forgiven!
12.
‘Join then your hands and hearts, and let the past
Be as a grave which gives not up its dead _1820
To evil thoughts.’—A film then overcast
My sense with dimness, for the wound, which bled
Freshly, swift shadows o’er mine eyes had shed.
When I awoke, I lay mid friends and foes,
And earnest countenances on me shed _1825
The light of questioning looks, whilst one did close
My wound with balmiest herbs, and soothed me to repose;
13.
And one whose spear had pierced me, leaned beside
With quivering lips and humid eyes;—and all
Seemed like some brothers on a journey wide _1830
Gone forth, whom now strange meeting did befall
In a strange land, round one whom they might call
Their friend, their chief, their father, for assay
Of peril, which had saved them from the thrall
Of death, now suffering. Thus the vast array _1835
Of those fraternal bands were reconciled that day.
14.
Lifting the thunder of their acclamation,
Towards the City then the multitude,
And I among them, went in joy—a nation
Made free by love;—a mighty brotherhood _1840
Linked by a jealous interchange of good;
A glorious pageant, more magnificent
Than kingly slaves arrayed in gold and blood,
When they return from carnage, and are sent
In triumph bright beneath the populous battlement. _1845
15.
Afar, the city-walls were thronged on high,
And myriads on each giddy turret clung,
And to each spire far lessening in the sky
Bright pennons on the idle winds were hung;
As we approached, a shout of joyance sprung _1850
At once from all the crowd, as if the vast
And peopled Earth its boundless skies among
The sudden clamour of delight had cast,
When from before its face some general wreck had passed.
16.
Our armies through the City’s hundred gates _1855
Were poured, like brooks which to the rocky lair
Of some deep lake, whose silence them awaits,
Throng from the mountains when the storms are there
And, as we passed through the calm sunny air
A thousand flower-inwoven crowns were shed, _1860
The token flowers of truth and freedom fair,
And fairest hands bound them on many a head,
Those angels of love’s heaven that over all was spread.