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Rh As through more darkness upon Calvary Rose a more bitter crying from the Lord. Gloomy the night and sullen; whose faint breath Moans among grasses of a lonely hut; While Bemba mourns with dying wave afar Behold! a dim procession slowly moves Athwart the gloom! phantasmal Hero-forms, Scarr'd as with thunder; marr'd, yet glorious; Their pale brows aureoled with martyr-flame; Lovers of men, sublime in suffering; Patriots of all races and all time; Christian confessors whom the world admires; And some, whom none regarded, saving Heaven. They are come to claim their brother; and the First Seems like unto the lowly Son of God.

"Strew grass upon the hut; for I am cold!" And those dark silent followers obey. But Majuahra kneels beside the bed; Dark Majuahra, a young slave set free, Kneels by a rude bed in a bough-built hut;