Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/436

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SOUTHERN LIFE IN SOUTHERN LITERATURE
Spurred furious Hate; he foamed at mouth, His breath was hot upon the air,His breath scorched souls, as a dry drought Withers green trees and burns them bare.
Straight drives he at his enemy, His hairy hands grip lance in rest, His lance it gleams full bitterly, God!—gleams, true-point, on Love's bare breast!
Love's gray eyes glow with a heaven-heat, Love lifts his hand in a saintly prayer;Look! Hate hath fallen at his feet! Look! Hate hath vanished in the air!
Then all the throng looked kind on all; Eyes yearned, lips kissed, dumb souls were freed;Two magic maids' hands lifted a pall And the dead knight, Heart, sprang on his steed.
Then Love cried, "Break me his lance, each knight! Ye shall fight for blood-athirst Fame no more."And the knights all doffed their mailèd might And dealt out dole on dole to the poor.
Then dove-lights sanctified the plain, And hawk and sparrow shared a nest.And the great sea opened and swallowed Pain, And out of this water-grave floated Rest!
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