Lv

Softly he stroked the child, who lay outstretched With face to earth; and, as the boy turned round His battered head, a groan the Sailor fetched As if he saw--there and upon that ground-- Strange repetition of the deadly wound He had himself inflicted. Through his brain At once the griding iron passage found; [D] Deluge of tender thoughts then rushed amain, Nor could his sunken eyes the starting tear restrain.