 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
“I was a Hebrew and a princess—now
I am a Christian and a captive! Come!
This garb and guise of thine declares, methinks,
Some mysteries of thy country's deities—
This day, thou shalt not fail to learn of mine!”
She breathed a strange word and a shrivelled hand
Unbarred a low dark postern, and a face,
Darkened and harrowed by the toils and thoughts
And changes of exceeding years, looked forth.
The melancholy shadow of a smile
And the sad echo of a broken voice
Gave welcome to the wanderers; and amid
The solemn stillness of their refuge fell,
From the pale lips of persecuted faith,
Full many a history of the martyrdoms.
I am a Christian and a captive! Come!
This garb and guise of thine declares, methinks,
Some mysteries of thy country's deities—
This day, thou shalt not fail to learn of mine!”
She breathed a strange word and a shrivelled hand
Unbarred a low dark postern, and a face,
Darkened and harrowed by the toils and thoughts
And changes of exceeding years, looked forth.
The melancholy shadow of a smile
And the sad echo of a broken voice
Gave welcome to the wanderers; and amid
The solemn stillness of their refuge fell,
From the pale lips of persecuted faith,
Full many a history of the martyrdoms.
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |