Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/147

Rh

And I beheld—speak not!—'twas he—my son! My boy lay dying there! He raised one glance, And knew me—for he sought with feeble hand To cover his glazed eyes. A darker veil Sank o'er them soon,—I will not have thy look Fix'd on me thus!—Away!

Thou hast seen this, Thou hast done this—and yet thou liv'st?

I live! And know'st thou wherefore?—On my soul there fell A horror of great darkness, which shut out All earth, and heaven, and hope. I cast away The spear and helm, and made the cloister's shade The home of my despair. But a deep voice Came to me through the gloom, and sent its tones Far through my bosom's depths. And I awoke, Aye, as the mountain cedar doth shake off Its weight of wintry snow, e'en so I shook Despondence from my soul, and knew myself Seal'd by that blood wherewith my hands were dyed, And set apart, and fearfully mark'd out Unto a mighty task!—To rouse the soul