Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/165

Rh

Kneel not to me. Kneel to your lord! on his resolves doth hang His children's doom. He may be lightly won By a few bursts of passionate tears and words.

Speak not of noble men!—he bears a soul Stronger than love or death.

I knew 'twas thus! He could not fail!

There is no mercy, none, On this cold earth!—To strive with such a world, Hearts should be void of love!—We will go hence, My children! we are summon'd. Lay your heads, In their young radiant beauty, once again To rest upon this bosom. He that dwells Beyond the clouds which press us darkly round, Will yet have pity, and before his face We three will stand together! Moslem! now Let the stroke fall at once!

'Tis thine own will. These might e'en yet be spared.