Chapter XV

"Reserved for some high destiny despite
The downfall of our people we live on--
My dreams were of deliverance last night,
And peril of impending death withdrawn:
A light, my weeping one, begins to dawn
On the thick gloom by sorrow round us cast;
The lead-like pressure of despair is gone,
And rides a viewless courier on the blast
Who whispers--Lo! the hour of vengeance comes at last.