Poems.
79
THE JUSFICE OF PETER OF ARRAGON.AN ITALTAN LEGEND.
Peter of Arragon! cruel and wild,His name comes down the centuries to us,This is a story of his justice told.
Through the long streets of Seville, silent they—For much the people feared their wicked king—Rides he, with throng of knights, a haughty train.His band upon his golden jeweled sword,And like an eagle glancing his fierce eyesSeem ever seeking prey or cause for wrath.The children hide within their mothers' arms,Women shrink back lest his gaze on them fallAnd tear them from their safe retreats to graceHis bacchanalian feasts.
Closely the rabble press against the wall,On through the open way the courtiers moveToward the church of great San Dominique,Stately its spires and rich its cloisters are;At its broad gates the king in horror halts,With deepest rage his eyes in anger gleamAt the dread sight that meets his outraged gaze.A black bier stands without the entrance wide,And from it pours a pestilential breath,
