"Thou, haughty one, shalt be a shade
Ere dawns the coming morrow's sun."
Then, ere the point he could evade,
He felt the sharp steel pierce his breast,
While he, who the foul deed had done
Stood calmly by, and saw him sink
In death, beside the water's brink,
Saw, gush by gush, the crimson blood
Pour out, and mingle with the flood;
Then drew his dagger from its rest,
And gazing on its fearful hue,
Said, "Thou hast yet one task to do.
He who, death-wounded, welters there,
Came hither, o'er the deep to bear
Far off from her paternal nest,
The white dove I have watched so long.
The falcon's wing was bold and strong,
Yet thou hast stayed him in his flight;
Strike one more blow, and thou to-night
May'st rest;" then laid his bosom bare,
And buried deep the dagger there,
And by his victim's lifeless trunk,
Without a sigh or groan he sunk.

Canto III.

I.

With plumes to which the dewdrops cling,
Wide waves the morn her golden wing;