Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/207

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Who visits for such things!—Hast thou no sense Of thy frail nature?—'Twill be taught thee yet, And darkly shall the anguish of my soul, Darkly and heavily, pour itself on thine, When thou shalt cry for mercy from the dust, And be denied!

Nay, is it not thyself, That hast no mercy and no love within thee? These are thy sons, the nurslings of thy house; Speak! must they live or die?

Is it Heaven's will To try the dust it kindles for a day, With infinite agony!—How have I drawn This chastening on my head!—They bloom'd around me, And my heart grew too fearless in its joy, Glorying in their bright promise!—If we fall, Is there no pardon for our feebleness? (, without speaking; holds up a Cross before him).

Speak!