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upon a barricade in the street With guilty blood polluted, but made clean Again with pure blood, that a child of twelve Was seized 'midst men with weapons in their hands. 'Art thou of these?'—The child said, 'Yes, I am.' 'Good!' said the officer, 'thou shalt be shot: Await thy turn.' Then blinding flashes past, And his companions fell beneath the wall, While he looked on. 'Permit me that I go'— Thus to the officer at last he said— 'And to my mother in our house, give back This watch of hers.'—'Ah, thou wouldst fly?'—'Not so, I shall return.'—'These children of the street Are cowards, after all. Where lodgest thou?'— 'Down there beside the fountain. Let me go, I shall come back, "Monsieur le capitaine.— 'Be gone, thou rogue.'—And the child scampered off. Clumsy deceit, gross cunning of a boy! And all the soldiers with their captain laughed, And with the laughter mixed the rattle hoarse That issues from the throats of men that die; But the laugh ceased, for sudden he returned