Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/259

Rh Rang out sonorous as a triumph-song, "Give back my faith!"
 * A pale torch faintly gleamed

Through niche and window of a lonely church, And thence the wailing of a stifled dirge Rose sad o'er midnight's ear. A corpse was there— And a young beauteous creature, kneeling low In speechless grief. Her wealth of raven locks Swept o'er the dead man's brow, as there she laid The withered bridal crown, while every hope That at its twining woke, and every joy Young love in fond idolatry had nursed, Perished that hour.
 * Feebly she raised her child,

And bade him kiss his father. But the boy Shrank back in horror from the clotted blood, And wildly clasped his hands with such a cry Of piercing anguish that each heart recoiled Prom his impassioned woe. Yet there was one Unmoved,—one white-haired, melancholy man, Who stood in utter desolation forth, Silent and solemn, like some lonely tower. Still in his tearless eye there seemed a spark Of ancient glory 'mid despair to burn— That Sciote martyr was his only son.