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CRUCE AND CORONA.
Through many lands and scenes the trav'lers roam,And sometimes, too, in crowded cities pause,Where throngs of anxious, restless beings pass,Who still shall live when all this wondrous world,With its dissolving beauties, rushes backTo voids chaotic.The meridian sunO'er calmly-rolling waters casts its sheen,And o'er those waters glides a ship that bearsThe trio toward Italia's sunny shores.
VI.
But prison-walls are powerless to dimThe light of faith, that with Crucè doth growMore strong, and stronger still. This light dispelsThe sadness deep her eyes have shadowed forthThrough many days of many former years.The high triumphant pow'r is shining there.
A night hath passed; and now the crimson lightOf early morn illumes the dungeon-bars.Crucè looks out upon demolished homes,And reads the triumphs of a holy faithIn true brave souls who fear no one but God;And in her soul there comes a mighty joyIt never knew before. And when she hears
