THE BROTHER'S HAND.
37
Blue-eyed and stately, with a bright, brave scorn
Of wrong, he in a calmer climate grew.
The other, tropic-nursed as tropic-born,
Was fierce and swarthy, and imperious too,
And restless as the wind that bloweth where
It listeth: so he wandered here and there.
And neither of the other clearly knew.
Of wrong, he in a calmer climate grew.
The other, tropic-nursed as tropic-born,
Was fierce and swarthy, and imperious too,
And restless as the wind that bloweth where
It listeth: so he wandered here and there.
And neither of the other clearly knew.
At last there came a heavy hail of lead
Out of the Northern sky, that Southward fell.
The fields were blasted and the men lay dead;
The women moaned; and flying shapes of shell
Their ways from roof to hearth-stone madly tore,
And opened suddenly the deserted door,
By the brier-roses guarded once so well
Out of the Northern sky, that Southward fell.
The fields were blasted and the men lay dead;
The women moaned; and flying shapes of shell
Their ways from roof to hearth-stone madly tore,
And opened suddenly the deserted door,
By the brier-roses guarded once so well
And Ruin glided up the weedy path,
And crossed the mouldy threshold and went in,
And sat there, with a sort of a sullen wrath,
Gathering about her all that once had been
Dear and familiar—save the rose, beside
The crumbling porch, from which she vainly tried,
Tearing her hands with thorns, the flowers to win.
And crossed the mouldy threshold and went in,
And sat there, with a sort of a sullen wrath,
Gathering about her all that once had been
Dear and familiar—save the rose, beside
The crumbling porch, from which she vainly tried,
Tearing her hands with thorns, the flowers to win.
