 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
64
THE RANSOM OF PERU.
The conquered Inca to Pizarro said:
‘I swear to fill this hall with virgin gold,
As high as any Spaniard here can hold
His steel-gloved hand, if thou wilt spare my head.’
‘I swear to fill this hall with virgin gold,
As high as any Spaniard here can hold
His steel-gloved hand, if thou wilt spare my head.’
Then streamed the ingots from their rocky bed:
For weeks and weeks the tide of treasure roll'd
To reach the mark; but when the sum was told,
The victor only strangled him instead.
For weeks and weeks the tide of treasure roll'd
To reach the mark; but when the sum was told,
The victor only strangled him instead.
And many have said to Fate: ‘If I may eat
Life's sweet coarse bread, the ransom shall be pour'd
In rhymes of gold at thy victorious feet.’
Life's sweet coarse bread, the ransom shall be pour'd
In rhymes of gold at thy victorious feet.’
But like Pizarro waiting for his hoard,
Fate gave them chains; and letting them complete
The glittering heap, then drew the strangling cord.
Fate gave them chains; and letting them complete
The glittering heap, then drew the strangling cord.
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |