II.

The watchman watched along the walls: And lo! an hour or more ere light Loud rang his trumpet. From their halls The revellers rushed into the night.

There hung a terror on the air; There moved a terror under ground;— The hostile hosts, heard everywhere, Within, without—were nowhere found.

"The Christians to the lions! Ho!"— Alas! self-tortured crowds, let be! Let go your wrath; your fears let go: Ye gnaw the net, but cannot flee.

Ye drank from out Orestes' cup; Orestes' Furies drave ye wild. Who conquers from on high? Look up! A Woman, holding forth a Child!