JUSTINIAN AND BELISARIUS.
["It is in vain thy generosity would absolve me: shortly called to the Supreme Tribunal, there I must render an account of all your sufferings: the King of kings will say, 'What hast thou done with the faithful friend I gave thee?'"—Mad. de Genlis.]
Death, on the monarch's pallid brow
Had placed his seal of fate;
And all his regal honors now,
"Were chill and desolate.
He felt how empty and how vain
The pride, the pomp, the strife,—
O, he would give them all to gain
One moment more of life.
Had placed his seal of fate;
And all his regal honors now,
"Were chill and desolate.
He felt how empty and how vain
The pride, the pomp, the strife,—
O, he would give them all to gain
One moment more of life.
He thought of all his victories won,
The field in blood imbued;
Of him who led his armies on,
His own ingratitude.
Unto his soul with leaden pain,
They darkly onward came,
And the monarch hid his burning face,
In anguish and in shame.
The field in blood imbued;
Of him who led his armies on,
His own ingratitude.
Unto his soul with leaden pain,
They darkly onward came,
And the monarch hid his burning face,
In anguish and in shame.
But hark! a voice of other years,
Rings to his very heart,
Is it the foeman's shout he hears?
Or why that sudden start?
Rings to his very heart,
Is it the foeman's shout he hears?
Or why that sudden start?
