The Pilgrims of Hope by William Morris
page 29 of 52 (55%)
page 29 of 52 (55%)
|
The thief is a saint beside them. These raised a jeering noise,
And our speaker quailed before it, and the hubbub drowned his voice. Then Richard put him aside and rose at once in his place, And over the rags and the squalor beamed out his beautiful face, And his sweet voice rang through the tumult, and I think the crowd would have hushed And hearkened his manly words; but a well-dressed reptile pushed Right into the ring about us and screeched out infamies That sickened the soul to hearken; till he caught my angry eyes And my voice that cried out at him, and straight on me he turned, A foul word smote my heart and his cane on my shoulders burned. But e'en as a kestrel stoops down Richard leapt from his stool And drave his strong right hand amidst the mouth of the fool. Then all was mingled together, and away from him was I torn, And, hustled hither and thither, on the surging crowd was borne; But at last I felt my feet, for the crowd began to thin, And I looked about for Richard that away from thence we might win; When lo, the police amidst us, and Richard hustled along Betwixt a pair of blue-coats as the doer of all the wrong! Little longer, friend, is the story; I scarce have seen him again; I could not get him bail despite my trouble and pain; And this morning he stood in the dock: for all that that might avail, They might just as well have dragged him at once to the destined jail. The police had got their man and they meant to keep him there, And whatever tale was needful they had no trouble to swear. Well, the white-haired fool on the bench was busy it seems that day, And so with the words "Two months," he swept the case away; Yet he lectured my man ere he went, but not for the riot indeed |
|