Will look!" At night he never came.

Nor next night: on the after-morn,

I went forth with a strength new-born.

The church was empty; something drew

My steps into the street; I knew

It led me to the market-place:

Where, lo, on high, the father's face!

That horrible black scaffold dressed,

That stapled block ... God sink the rest!

That head strapped back, that blinding vest,