Classic Poem

XLI.

" And yet a righteous deed is done,
And I shake off that weariest load;
The thought of vengeance due to one
Who taught me Hate's unblissful road.

XLII.

" Corroding grief and maddening Shame
Are still the fiends that urge my life;
But 'twill not blot Crescentius' fame,
If men record his hapless wife.

XLIII.

" Lie still, thou heap that wert a King,
And yield thy signet gem to me;
My fixed resolve, and Otho's ring,
Will soon have set the murderess free.
" But free to what? to pass her days
In some dark cell of cloistered wo;
To hate the gladdening sunshine's rays,
And long for death's releasing blow.

XLV.

" My Lords! the King for some two hours
Will rest, and all without may wait;
This royal token shows my powers
To pass at will through guards and gate. "