II.

All slept but those in watchful arms who stood,

And those who sate tending the beacon's light;

And the few sounds from that vast multitude Made silence more profound. Oh, what a might

Of human thought was cradled in that night! How many hearts impenetrably veiled

Beat underneath its shade; what secret fight Evil and good, in woven passions mailed, Waged through that silent throng—a war that never failed!

III.

And now the Power of Good held victory;
So, through the labyrinth of many a tent,
Among the silent millions who did lie
In innocent sleep, exultingly I went;

The moon had left Heaven desert now; but, lent

From eastern morn, the first faint lustre showed

An armed youth-over his spear he bent
His downward face-"A friend!" I cried

aloud;

And quickly common hopes made freemen understood.

IV.

I sate beside him while the morning beam Crept slowly over Heaven, and talked with him Of those immortal hopes, a glorious theme! Which led us forth, until the stars grew dim : And all the while, methought, his voice did

As if it drowned in remembrance were

Of thoughts which make the moist eyes overbrim :

At last, when daylight 'gan to fill the air, He looked on me, and cried in wonder-" thou art here!"

V.

Then, suddenly, I knew it was the youth
In whom its earliest hopes my spirit found;
But envious tongues had stained his spotless
truth,

And thoughtless pride his love in silence bound,

And shame and sorrow mine in toils had wound,

Whilst he was innocent, and I deluded; The truth now came upon me; on the ground Tears of repenting joy, which fast intruded, Fell fast, and o'er its peace our mingled spirits brooded.

VI.

Thus, while with rapid lips and earnest eyes
We talked, a sound of sweeping conflict spread,
As from the earth did suddenly arise;
From every tent roused by that clamour dread,
Our bands outsprung and seized their arms
-we sped

Towards the sound: our tribes were gathering far.

Those sanguine slaves amid ten thousand dead

Stabbed in their sleep, trampled in treacherous war

The gentle hearts whose power their lives had sought to spare.

VII.

Like rabid snakes that sting some gentle child Who brings them food, when winter false and fair

Allures them forth with its cold smiles, so wild

They rage among the camp;-they overbear The patriot hosts-confusion, then despair, Descends like night-when "Laon!" one did cry:

Like a bright ghost from Heaven that shout did scare

The slaves, and, widening through the vaulted sky,

Seemed sent from Earth to Heaven in sign of

victory.

VIII.

In sudden panic those false murderers fled, Like insect tribes before the northern gale; But swifter still our hosts encompassèd Their shattered ranks, and in a craggy vale, Where even their fierce despair might naught avail,

Hemmed them around!—and then revenge and fear

Made the high virtue of the patriots fail: One pointed on his foe the mortal spearI rushed before its point, and cried, "Forbear, forbear!"

IX.

The spear transfixed my arm that was uplifted In swift expostulation, and the blood Gushed round its point: I smiled, and—“Oh! thou gifted

With eloquence which shall not be withstood,

Flow thus!"-I cried in joy, "thou vital flood, Until my heart be dry, ere thus the cause For which thou wert aught worthy be subdued

Ah, ye are pale,-ye weep,-your passions pause,

"Tis well! ye feel the truth of love's benignant laws.

X.

Soldiers, our brethren and our friends are slain,

Ye murdered them, I think, as they did sleep! Alas, what have ye done? the slightest pain Which ye might suffer, there were eyes to

weep,

But ye have quenched them—there were smiles to steep

Your hearts in balm, but they are lost in woe; And those whom love did set his watch to

keep

Around your tents truth's freedom to bestow, Ye stabbed as they did sleep-but they forgive ye now.

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XI.

'O wherefore should ill ever flow from ill,
And pain still keener pain forever breed?
We all are brethren-even the slaves who kill
For hire are men; and to avenge misdeed
On the misdoer doth but Misery feed

With her own broken heart! O Earth, O
Heaven!

And thou, dread Nature, which to every deed And all that lives, or is, to be hath given, Even as to thee have these done ill, and are forgiven.

XII.

"Join then your hands and hearts, and let the past

Be as a grave which gives not up its dead
To evil thoughts"-a film then overcast
My sense with dimness, for the wound, which
bled

Freshly, swift shadows o'er mine eyes had shed.

When I awoke, I lay 'mid friends and foes,
And earnest countenances on me shed
The light of questioning looks, whilst one did
close

My wound with balmiest herbs, and soothed me to repose;

XIII.

And one whose spear had pierced me leaned beside

With quivering lips and humid eyes;—and all

Seemed like some brothers on a journey wide Gone forth, whom now strange meeting did befall

In a strange land, round one whom they might call

Their friend, their chief, their father, for assay

Of peril, which had saved them from the thrall

Of death, now suffering. Thus the vast array Of those fraternal bands were reconciled that

day.

XIV.

Lifting the thunder of their acclamation,
Towards the City then the multitude,