Seen dazzling through the mist of tears,
Guerdon of many a painful hour;
To-morrow would have given him power
To rule, to shine, to smite, to save
And must it dawn upon his grave?

XVIII

"The sun was sinking still I lay
Chain'd to the chill and stiffening steed:

I thought to mingle there our clay,
And my dim eyes of death had need,
No hope arose of being freed:

I cast my last looks up the sky,

405

410

And there between me and the sun

I saw the expecting raven fly,

Who scarce would wait till both should die,

Ere his repast begun;

415

He flew, and perch'd, then flew once more,
And each time nearer than before;

I saw his wing through twilight flit,

And once so near me he alit

I could have smote, but lack'd the strength;

420

And then again a little breath,

A little thrill, a short suspense,

An icy sickness curdling o'er

My heart, and sparks that cross'd my brain;
A gasp, a throb, a start of pain,

A sigh, and nothing more.

435

440

445

450

But fail'd and she approach'd and made
With lip and finger signs that said,

460

I must not strive as yet to break
The silence, till my strength should be
Enough to leave my accents free;
And then her hand on mine she laid,
And smooth'd the pillow for my head,
And stole along on tiptoe tread,

And gently oped the door, and spake
In whispers - ne'er was voice so sweet!
Even music follow'd her light feet;

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470

But those she call'd were not awake, And she went forth; but ere she pass'd, Another look on me she cast,

475

Me - one day o'er their realm to reign!

490

To-morrow the Borysthenes

May see our coursers graze at ease
Upon his Turkish bank - and never

Had I such welcome for a river

As I shall yield when safely there. Comrades, good night!"

500