Stories in Verse
His fierce eyes flashed; he thirsted for revenge.

Then came a calmer mood, and far away

Sped the expelled thoughts like shuddering gusts of wind.

He wept that this injustice should be done;

Yet knew that in God's hand the scale was set,

And though His poor, down-trodden, waited long,

They waited surely, for His hour would come.

XIII.

The night passed, and the troublous morning broke,

And Ruth was sold away from him she loved.

The dark day died, and when the moon arose,

The foremost torch in day's long funeral train,

Karagwe went down toward the river's brink,

Thinking of what had been. He turned and saw

His enemy walk calmly up the road.

Quickly behind him came another form;

[Pg 41]

And in a jeweled hand, half raised to strike,

A poniard glistened. Then the negro rose,

And caught the weapon from the assassin's grasp,


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