Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/222

Unfadingly before us. Then, as now,
Fled was the summer-flush, though Autumn's breath
Delayed to sear the leaf, that o'er the tide
Of gentle Isis hung. Up through the mass
Of woven foliage went the holy towers,
And classic domes, where throned Science points
To Alfred's honored name.
                                       See the rude throng,—
Dark glaring brows, and blood-shot, fiery eyes,
And preparations dire for fearful pangs
Of ignominious death. Yet all around,
The sparkling waters, and benignant skies,
And trees, with cool, embracing arms, allure
To thoughts of mercy. Still unpitying man
Heeds not, relents not, though sweet Nature kneels,
And sheds her holy tear- drops on his heart,
To melt the savage purpose.
                                        Through dense crowds
Exulting led, there comes a noble form,
Majestic of demeanor, and arrayed
In sacerdotal robe. Those lips, which oft
'Neath some cathedral's awe-imposing arch
Warned with heaven's eloquence a tearful throng,
Now, in this deep adversity, essay
The same blest theme. With brutal haste they check
The unfinished sentence, they who used to crouch
To his high fortunes, or with shouts partake
His flowing bounty. Smitten on the mouth,