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And the first object which he saw,
With conscious sight, as he swept along,—
It was the Banner in his hand!
He felt, and made a sudden stand.
He looked about like one betrayed:
What hath he done? what promise made?
Oh weak, weak moment! to what end
Can such a vain oblation tend,
And he the Bearer?—Can he go
Carrying this Instrument of woe,
And find, find any where, a right
To excuse him in his Country’s sight?
No, will not all Men deem the change
A downward course, perverse and strange?
Here is it,—but how, when? must she,
The unoffending Emily,
Again this piteous object see?
