4. 
I sate beside him while the morning beam
Crept slowly over Heaven, and talked with him
Of those immortal hopes, a glorious theme! 
Which led us forth, until the stars grew dim:  1750
And all the while, methought, his voice did swim
As if it drowned in remembrance were
Of thoughts which make the moist eyes overbrim: 
At last, when daylight ’gan to fill the air,
He looked on me, and cried in wonder—­’Thou art here!’ 1755

5. 
Then, suddenly, I knew it was the youth
In whom its earliest hopes my spirit found;
But envious tongues had stained his spotless truth,
And thoughtless pride his love in silence bound,
And shame and sorrow mine in toils had wound, 1760
Whilst he was innocent, and I deluded;
The truth now came upon me, on the ground
Tears of repenting joy, which fast intruded,
Fell fast, and o’er its peace our mingling spirits brooded.

6. 
Thus, while with rapid lips and earnest eyes 1765
We talked, a sound of sweeping conflict spread
As from the earth did suddenly arise;
From every tent roused by that clamour dread,
Our bands outsprung and seized their arms—­we sped
Towards the sound:  our tribes were gathering far. 1770
Those sanguine slaves amid ten thousand dead
Stabbed in their sleep, trampled in treacherous war
The gentle hearts whose power their lives had sought to spare.

7. 
Like rabid snakes, that sting some gentle child
Who brings them food, when winter false and fair 1775
Allures them forth with its cold smiles, so wild
They rage among the camp;—­they overbear
The patriot hosts—­confusion, then despair,
Descends like night—­when ‘Laon!’ one did cry;
Like a bright ghost from Heaven that shout did scare 1780
The slaves, and widening through the vaulted sky,
Seemed sent from Earth to Heaven in sign of victory.

8. 
In sudden panic those false murderers fled,
Like insect tribes before the northern gale: 
But swifter still, our hosts encompassed 1785
Their shattered ranks, and in a craggy vale,
Where even their fierce despair might nought avail,
Hemmed them around!—­and then revenge and fear
Made the high virtue of the patriots fail: 
One pointed on his foe the mortal spear—­ 1790
I rushed before its point, and cried ‘Forbear, forbear!’

9. 
The spear transfixed my arm that was uplifted
In swift expostulation, and the blood
Gushed round its point:  I smiled, and—­’Oh! thou gifted
With eloquence which shall not be withstood, 1795
Flow thus!’ I cried in joy, ’thou vital flood,
Until my heart be dry, ere thus the cause
For which thou wert aught worthy be subdued—­
Ah, ye are pale,—­ye weep,—­your passions pause,—­
’Tis well! ye feel the truth of love’s benignant laws. 1800