'Friend of the bard,' I said, 'behold thou hast
The tears of one I love o'er blushes shed;
Has he not wrung the throb from parent's heart,
And stretch'd his hand to reave my children's bread?
For every tear that on their cheeks hath shone,
O may that Aristarch with tears of blood atone!'
XV.
'If cursing thou delight'st in,' he replied,
'If rage and execration is thy meed,
Mount the tribunal—Justice be thy guide,