Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/133

As through more darkness upon Calvary
Rose a more bitter crying from the Lord.
Gloomy the night and sullen; whose faint breath
Moans among grasses of a lonely hut;
While Bemba mourns with dying wave afar . .
. . . Behold! a dim procession slowly moves
Athwart the gloom! phantasmal Hero-forms,
Scarr'd as with thunder; marr'd, yet glorious;
Their pale brows aureoled with martyr-flame;
Lovers of men, sublime in suffering;
Patriots of all races and all time;
Christian confessors whom the world admires;
And some, whom none regarded, saving Heaven.
They are come to claim their brother; and the
First
Seems like unto the lowly Son of God.

"Strew grass upon the hut; for I am cold!"
And those dark silent followers obey.
But Majuahra kneels beside the bed;
Dark Majuahra, a young slave set free,
Kneels by a rude bed in a bough-built hut;