Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/153

Rh

Would they not hear?

They heard, as one that stands By the cold grave which hath but newly closed O'er his last friend doth hear some passer-by, Bid him be comforted!—Their hearts have died Within them!—We must perish, not as those That fall when battle's voice doth shake the hills, And peal through Heaven's great arch, but silently, And with a wasting of the spirit down, A quenching, day by day, of some bright spark, Which lit us on our toils!—Reproach me not; My soul is darken'd with a heavy cloud— —Yet fear not I shall yield!

Breathe not the word, Save in proud scorn!—Each bitter day, o'erpass'd