Crush'd forms were there, where stubborn life
Still for the mastery pined,—
Stern brows, where death had pass'd, and left
The frown of hate behind.
And mid that ghastly train were seen
Two victims young and fair,
The chain that bound their polish'd breasts
Reveal'd what youths they were.
Bold toward the sky, the marble brow
Of Carloman was turn'd,
And firm his right hand grasp'd the sword
As if some foe he spurn'd;
His ample shield was fondly flung,
To guard his partner's breast,
And Merovee's pale, bloodless lips
Upon his cheek were prest;—
While weltering in the purple stream
That dyed their garments' fold,
Their flowing curls profusely lay,
Bright chesnut blent with gold.
And eyes that wept such fate, might read
Upon their bosom's chain,
That once when Love and Friendship strove,
The power of Love was vain.
