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Rh

All she could rescue of the innocent group That yesterday surrounded her—Escaped Almost by miracle!—Fear, frantic Fear, Wing'd her weak feet; yet, half repenting now Her headlong haste, she wishes she had staid To die with those affrighted Fancy paints The lawless soldiers' victims—Hark! again The driving tempest bears the cry of Death; And with deep, sudden thunder, the dread sound Of cannon vibrates on the tremulous earth; While, bursting in the air, the murderous bomb Glares o'er her mansion—Where the splinters fall Like scatter'd comets, its destructive path Is mark'd by wreaths of flame!—Then, overwhelm'd