Page 163 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
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And  through  Lhc  vapor and  fire. beneath,  on  the  dark  crypto  narrow
                                 wing,
                         With  a  shout that pealed  to the  room’s  high  roof, they  saw  their hated
                                 King.
                         And  he smote and trampled them under him ;  and a long month thence
                                 they  bare
                         AIL  black  tiidr throats  with  the  grip  of  his  hand-; when  the hangman's
                                 hand  came  there.


                                    But  while  the  King  o’er  his  foes  still  raged.
                                       With  a  heart  that  none  could  tarn-
                                    Another  man  sprang  doivn  to  the  crypt1.
                                    And  with  Ivs  sword  in  his  hand  hard-gripped,
                                       There  stood  Sir  Robert  Gr,reme.

                                    Alid  the  traitor  Looked  on  the  King's  spent  strength,
                                       Avid  said:  "H ave  I  kept  my  word?

                                    Yea,  King,  the  mortal pledge  that  I  gave?
                                    No  black friar's  .shrift; thy  soul  shah  have,
                                       But  the  shrift  of  this  red  sword:'

                         With  that lie smote  his  King through  the  breast,  and  three  ol  them  in
                                 that pen
                         Fell  on  him  and  .stabbed  him,  and  stabbed  him  there  like  merdltsif,
                                 murderous  rneil.
                         ’Twas  in  the  fair  lit  death-chapelle,  lay tlie  slain  King's  corp.se  on  a
                                 bier,
                         And,  girls, ’twas  a  su-set, sad  thing to see  how the curling, golden  hair,
                         As in the day of the poet's youth, from the King's crown clustered there.
                                    And  if  all  had  come  to  pass  in  the  brain
                                       That throbbed  beneath  those  curls,
                                    Then  Scots  had  said  in  the  days  to  come,
                                    That  this  their  soil  was  a  different  home,
                                       And  a  different  Scotland,  girls,

                                                                     D a n t k  G a b r i e l   R o s s e t t i.
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