Page:The Statues in the Block and Other Poems (1881).djvu/111

Rh A mercy waits on all other tears, But the Chains are never forgiven. Woe to the rebels!—their hands are bare, Their manacled bodies helpless there; Their faces lit with a strange wild light, As if they had fought and had won the fight!

No cry is uttered upraised no hand; All stilled to a muscle's quiver; One line on the brink of the cliff they stand, Their shadows flung down on the river. The quarry wall is on either side, The blood-red flag high o'er them; But the lurid light in their eyes defied The gathering guards before them. No parley is held when the Chains revolt: Grimly silent they stand secure On the outward lip of the embrasure; Waiting fierce-eyed for the fatal bolt. A voice from the guard, in a monotone;