3.
Each night, that mighty steed bore me abroad,
And I returned with food to our retreat,
And dark intelligence; the blood which flowed
Over the fields, had stained the courser’s feet;
Soon the dust drinks that bitter dew,—then meet _3815
The vulture, and the wild dog, and the snake,
The wolf, and the hyaena gray, and eat
The dead in horrid truce: their throngs did make
Behind the steed, a chasm like waves in a ship’s wake.
4.
For, from the utmost realms of earth came pouring _3820
The banded slaves whom every despot sent
At that throned traitor’s summons; like the roaring
Of fire, whose floods the wild deer circumvent
In the scorched pastures of the South; so bent
The armies of the leagued Kings around _3825
Their files of steel and flame;—the continent
Trembled, as with a zone of ruin bound,
Beneath their feet, the sea shook with their Navies’ sound.
5.
From every nation of the earth they came,
The multitude of moving heartless things, _3830
Whom slaves call men: obediently they came,
Like sheep whom from the fold the shepherd brings
To the stall, red with blood; their many kings
Led them, thus erring, from their native land;
Tartar and Frank, and millions whom the wings _3835
Of Indian breezes lull, and many a band
The Arctic Anarch sent, and Idumea’s sand,
6.
Fertile in prodigies and lies;—so there
Strange natures made a brotherhood of ill.
The desert savage ceased to grasp in fear _3840
His Asian shield and bow, when, at the will
Of Europe’s subtler son, the bolt would kill
Some shepherd sitting on a rock secure;
But smiles of wondering joy his face would fill,
And savage sympathy: those slaves impure, _3845
Each one the other thus from ill to ill did lure.
7.
For traitorously did that foul Tyrant robe
His countenance in lies,—even at the hour
When he was snatched from death, then o’er the globe,
With secret signs from many a mountain-tower, _3850
With smoke by day, and fire by night, the power
Of Kings and Priests, those dark conspirators,
He called:—they knew his cause their own, and swore
Like wolves and serpents to their mutual wars
Strange truce, with many a rite which Earth and Heaven abhors. _3855
8.
Myriads had come—millions were on their way;
The Tyrant passed, surrounded by the steel
Of hired assassins, through the public way,
Choked with his country’s dead:—his footsteps reel
On the fresh blood—he smiles. ‘Ay, now I feel _3860
I am a King in truth!’ he said, and took
His royal seat, and bade the torturing wheel
Be brought, and fire, and pincers, and the hook,
And scorpions, that his soul on its revenge might look.
9.
‘But first, go slay the rebels—why return _3865
The victor bands?’ he said, ‘millions yet live,
Of whom the weakest with one word might turn
The scales of victory yet;—let none survive
But those within the walls—each fifth shall give
The expiation for his brethren here.— _3870
Go forth, and waste and kill!’—‘O king, forgive
My speech,’ a soldier answered—‘but we fear
The spirits of the night, and morn is drawing near;
10.
‘For we were slaying still without remorse,
And now that dreadful chief beneath my hand _3875
Defenceless lay, when on a hell-black horse,
An Angel bright as day, waving a brand
Which flashed among the stars, passed.’—‘Dost thou stand
Parleying with me, thou wretch?’ the king replied;
‘Slaves, bind him to the wheel; and of this band, _3880
Whoso will drag that woman to his side
That scared him thus, may burn his dearest foe beside;
11.
‘And gold and glory shall be his.—Go forth!’
They rushed into the plain.—Loud was the roar
Of their career: the horsemen shook the earth; _3885
The wheeled artillery’s speed the pavement tore;
The infantry, file after file, did pour
Their clouds on the utmost hills. Five days they slew
Among the wasted fields; the sixth saw gore
Stream through the city; on the seventh, the dew _3890
Of slaughter became stiff, and there was peace anew:
12.
Peace in the desert fields and villages,
Between the glutted beasts and mangled dead!
Peace in the silent streets! save when the cries
Of victims to their fiery judgement led, _3895
Made pale their voiceless lips who seemed to dread
Even in their dearest kindred, lest some tongue
Be faithless to the fear yet unbetrayed;
Peace in the Tyrant’s palace, where the throng
Waste the triumphal hours in festival and song! _3900