Page:Poems of Nature and Life.djvu/306

 296 CONSOLATIONS OF SOLITUDE

Let it not be with that sad look

At which repentant Peter shook,

When the cock crew ! That awful glance,

Keen and piercing as a lance,

Might make even Satan leer askance,

Met while on wicked errand bent, —

Glance to strike dumb the irreverent,

And guilt make mad, as, blood-defiled,

From realm to realm, from wild to wild,

Fled Clytaemnestra's hapless child,

Remorse forever on his track

And all the Furies at his back.

Nor eye me with that gaze intent

Which can fright even the innocent.

And drive Dejection to despair,

When, deeming heaven disdains her prayer.

She vaguely wails some shadowy sin

That may no pitying pardon win.

��Ah, while thy face unveiled I see,

If thou shouldst speak, let it not be

With that stern voice which, like a knell,

On ears of traitor Judas fell.

When thou didst bid the wretch farewell, -

But with approving smile and speech,

Such as could suffering patience teach

To his mild Master, on that morn

Which saw him unresisting torn

With bloody scourge and crown of thorn ;

Such as, in Truth's great service, gave

To Socrates a soul to brave

Hate, persecution, and the grave ;

Such as sustained the steadfast mind

Of Belisarius, old and blind,

Who begged his bread with humble mien

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