Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/94

80 No sound made answer save the cries of grief From all the mourners, and the suppliance Of strick’n Admetus: &quot; O have mercy, gods! O gods, have mercy, mercy upon us ! &quot; Then from the dying woman s couch again Her voice was heard, but with strange sudden tones: &quot;Lo, I awake,—the light comes back to me. What miracle is this? &quot; And thunders shook The air, and clouds of mighty darkness fell, And the earth trembled, and weird, horrid sounds Were heard of rushing wings and fleeing feet, And groans; and all were silent, dumb with awe, Saving the king, who paused not in his prayer: &quot; Have mercy, gods! &quot; and then again, &quot; O gods, Have mercy! &quot; Through the open casement poured Bright floods of sunny light; the air was soft, Clear, delicate as though a summer storm Had passed away; and those there standing saw, Afar upon the plain, Death fleeing thence, And at the doorway, weary, well-nigh spent, Alcides, flushed with victory.