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With hue like that when some great painter dips
His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse.
A sweet and solemn smile, like
She stood beside him like a rainbow
Within some storm when scarce its
From the blue paths of the swift sun And, when I spake, for sobs she could have faded;
not answer me.
One moment's light, which made
O'er that child's parted lips-a gleam
A shade of vanished days, -as the tears past Which wrapped it, even as with a father's kiss
I pressed those softest eyes in trembling tenderness.
The sceptred wretch then from that
I drew, and, of his change com-
With words of sadness soothed his
But he, while pride and fear held
With sullen guile of ill-dissembled
Glared on me as a toothless snake might glare:
Pity, not scorn, I felt, though
The desolater now, and unaware
With imagery beautiful as dream
Over its unregarded gold to keep Their silent watch. --The child trod faintingly,
And, as she went, the tears which she did weep
Glanced in the starlight; wildered seemed she,
At last the tyrant cried, "She hun. gers, slave,
Stab her, or give her bread!"—It was a tone
Such as sick fancies in a new-made
grave Might hear. I trembled, for the truth was known:
He with this child had thus been left alone,
And neither had gone forth for food, -but he,
In mingled pride and awe, cowered near his throne,
And she, a nursling of captivity, Knew nought beyond those walls, nor what such change might be.
And he was troubled at a charm withdrawn
Thus suddenly; that sceptres ruled
That even from gold the dreadful strength was gone
Which once made all things subject to its power
Such wonder seized him as if hour by hour
The past had come again; and the swift fall
I led him forth from that which now might seem
A gorgeous grave: through portals Like wonder stirred who saw such awful
Of one so great and terrible of yore To desolateness in the hearts of all
A mighty crowd, such as the wide land pours
Once in a thousand years, now gathered round
The fallen tyrant;-like the rush of showers
Of hail in spring, pattering along the ground,
Their many footsteps fell-else came no sound
From the wide multitude; that lonely man
Then knew the burden of his change, and found,
Concealing in the dust his visage wan, Refuge from the keen looks which through his bosom ran.
And he was faint withal: I sate beside him
Upon the earth, and took that child so fair
From his weak arms, that ill might none betide him
Or her; when food was brought to them, her share
To his averted lips the child did bear,
But, when she saw he had enough, she ate,
And wept the while;-the lonely man's despair
Hunger then overcame, and, of his
Forgetful, on the dust as in a trance he sate.
Slowly the silence of the multitudes Passed, as when far is heard in some lone dell
The gathering of a wind among the woods
Among our homes, is fallen! the murderer
Who slaked his thirsting soul, as from a well
Of blood and tears, with ruin! he is here!
Sunk in a gulf of scorn from which none may him rear!"
Then was heard-" He who judged, let him be brought To judgment !
Blood for blood cries from the soil
On which his crimes have deep pollution wrought!
Shall Othman only unavenged despoil?
Shall they who by the stress of grinding toil
Wrest from the unwilling earth his luxuries
Perish for crime, while his foul
Or creep within his veins at will?
And to high justice make her chosen
"What do ye seek? what fear ye," then I cried,
Suddenly starting forth, "that ye should shed
The blood of Othman ?-if your hearts are tried
In the true love of freedom, cease to dread
This one poor lonely man. -beneath Heaven spread
In purest light above us all, through earth,
Maternal earth, who doth her sweet smiles shed
"And he is fallen!" they cry; "he who did dwell
Like famine or the plague, or aught Of human nature win from these a second birth.
For all, let him go free; until the worth
His very victims brought-soft looks and speeches meet.
Then to a home for his repose assigned, Accompanied by the still throng, he went
In silence, where, to soothe his rankling mind,
Some likeness of his ancient state
And, if his heart could have been
As those who pardoned him, he might
His days in peace; but his straight lips were bent,
Men said, into a smile which guile portended,
A sight with which that child like hope with fear was blended.
the eve of that
'Twas midnight now,
The chains of earth like mist melted
The murmur of the people, slowly dying,
Paused as I spake, then those who
near me were
Cast gentle looks where the lone man The flood recede from which their thirst was lying
they seek to slake.
Shrouding his head, which now
Clasped on her lap in silence ;through the air
Sobs were then heard, and many kissed my feet
In pity's madness, and to the despair
Of him whom late they cursed a solace sweet
Decreed to hold a sacred Festival, A rite to attest the equality of all Who live. So to their homes, to dream or wake,
All went. The sleepless silence did recall
Laone to my thoughts, with hopes that make
The dawn flowed forth, and from its purple fountains
I drank those hopes which make the spirit quail,
As to the plain between the misty mountains
And the great City, with a countenance pale,
I went it was a sight which might avail
To make men weep exulting tears,
Now first from human power the reverent veil
Was torn, to see Earth from her general womb Pour forth her swarming sons to a fraternal doom;
To see far glancing in the misty morning