Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/218

 202

��He came not back, yet all too soon

She heard the words of woe, Her son adjudged to rebel's doom,

Her country's banner low.

Before a man of might there stood A youth condemn 'd and bound ;

And by his side a woman knelt, In anguish, on the ground.

Her golden locks, dishevel'd, flow'd

Around her shoulders fair : " Oh, save him ! save him ! " was the cry

That rent the troubled air ;

And from her agonizing soul

Burst such a shriek of pain, That iron-bosom 'd veterans shrank

To hear that sound again.

She wildly clasp 'd the judge's knees,

And, with a maniac glare, Besought " the widow's only stay,

For Christ's dear sake, to spare : "

But as she scann'd his rugged brow, The blood forsook her cheek,

�� �