Have these deserved it at thy mercy’s hand?
Oh! let thy justice all my actions scan,
Yet leave one hope—to die an honest man.”
He drooped his head upon his bosom, bowed
With misery, and instantly the proud
Young wife was at his side; soft o’er his brow
Swept her white fingers, and her voice was low:
“Thy soul is dark, beloved, it fears for us—
Ah! only trust in God, as I in thee,
Lift up thy stately brow; to see thee thus