Unseen is the blow, but she sinks in the crowd,
And her bright wedding-garment is turned to a shroud!
II.
On flew the Destroyer, o'er mountain and main,—
And where there was life, there, there are the slain!
No valley so deep, no islet so lone,
But his shadow is cast, and his victims are known.
He paused not, though years rolled weary and slow,
And Time's hoary pinion drooped languid and low:
He paused not till Man from his birth-place was swept,