Even from blood-stained lips, if truth
Linger upon them; but must flee
All maundering and maudlin ruth,
If this red record 'stablished stand.
The stealthy prowler loves the night,
But crouches at the threatening hand
It glimpses in the breaking light.
Disturbed! Those shining furtive eyes
Glance angrily askance—in fear!
The women's shrieks, the children's cries,