for homage, but in vain--
The deathlike spell was on him like a chain,
And his clogged tongue, that still he strove to teach,
Denied all answering speech!
The monarch bade him mark
The clotted blood that, dark,
Distained his royal bosom, and that found
Its way, still issuing, from a mortal wound,
Ghastly and gaping wide, upon his throat!
The shadow passed--another took his place,
Of the same royal race;
The noble Yumuri, the only son
Of the old monarch, heir to his high throne,
Cut off by cunning in his youthful pride;
There was the murderer's gash, and the red tide
Still pouring from his side;
And round his neck the mark of bloody hands,
That strangled the brave sufferer while he strove
Against their clashing brands.
Not with unmoistened eyes did the chief note
His noble cousin, precious to his love,
Brother of one more precious to his thought,
With whom and her, three happy hearts in one,
He grew together in their joys and fears--
And not till sundered knew the taste of tears;
Salt, bitter tears, but shed by one alone,
Him the survivor, the avenger--he
Who vainly shades his eyes that still must see!
Long troops came after of his slaughtered race,
Each in his habit, even as he died:
The big sweat trickled down the warrior's face,
Yet could he move no limb, in that deep trance,
Nor turn away his glance!

They melt again to cloud--at last they fade;
He breathes, that sad spectator,--they are gone;
He sighs with sweet relief; but lo! anon,
A deeper spell enfolds him, as a maid,
Graceful as evening light, and with an eye
Intelligent with beauty, like the sky,
And wooing as the shade,
Bends o'er him silently!
With one sweet hand she lifts the streaming hair,
That o'er her shoulders droops so gracefully,
While with the other she directs his gaze,
All desperate with amaze,
Yet with a strange delight, through all his fear!
What sees he there?
Buried within her bosom doth his eye
The deadly steel descry;
The blood stream clotted round it--the sweet life
Shed by the cruel knife!--
The keen blade guided to the pure white breast,
By its own kindred hand, declares the rest!
Smiling upon the deed, she smiles on him,
And in that smile the lovely shape grows dim.

His trance is