 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
Still by Jove's altar standing, Pansa looked
Upon the fluctuating host around,
Some with fear trembling, some with baffled hate,
Some silent in excess of passion, some
Most earnest to behold the game of death,
And thus, like a cathedral knell, he spake.
“I show ye mercy none will show to me!
Fly! ere the banners of the galleys wave
Beyond the cape! fly, ere the earth and air
Become the hell that fiction fables! fly
Ere carnage shrieks amid the torrent fire!
For me 't is nought—for you, 't is all—away!”
Yet, mocking truth and justice, all from flight
Turned back, and in the joy of shedded blood
Leaned o'er the arena. From the shattered cell
The famished lion sprung, with coiling mane
And fiendish eyes and jaws that clashed for gore.
Upon the fluctuating host around,
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Some silent in excess of passion, some
Most earnest to behold the game of death,
And thus, like a cathedral knell, he spake.
“I show ye mercy none will show to me!
Fly! ere the banners of the galleys wave
Beyond the cape! fly, ere the earth and air
Become the hell that fiction fables! fly
Ere carnage shrieks amid the torrent fire!
For me 't is nought—for you, 't is all—away!”
Yet, mocking truth and justice, all from flight
Turned back, and in the joy of shedded blood
Leaned o'er the arena. From the shattered cell
The famished lion sprung, with coiling mane
And fiendish eyes and jaws that clashed for gore.
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |