Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/148

134 Between the slim boles, when I heard the clink Of naked weapons, then a sudden thrust Sickening to hear, and then a stifled groan; And pressing forward I beheld the sight That seared itself for ever on my brain— My kinsman, Ser Ranieri, on the turf, Fallen upon his side, his bright young head Among the pine-spurs, and his cheek pressed close Unto the moist, chill sod : his fingers clutched A handful of loose weeds and grass and earth, Uprooted in his anguish as he fell, And slowly from his heart the thick stream flowed, Fouling the green, leaving the fair, sweet face Ghastly, transparent, with blue, stony eyes Staring in blankness on that other one Who triumphed over him. With hot desire Of instant vengeance I unsheathed my sword To rush upon the slayer, when he turned In his first terror of blood-guiltiness.

Within my heart a something snapped and brake. What was it but the chord of rapturous joy For ever stilled ? I tottered and would fall, Had I not leaned against the friendly pine; For all realities of life, unmoored From their firm anchorage, appeared to float Like hollow phantoms past my dizzy brain.