20. the traitor's vision.
by G. Willis White, Jr.
He lay on his couch in the silent hour,And the midnight lamp burned dim,
And he thought of the reins of despotic power,
That none could hold but him ;
But his brain was fevered and weary with thought,
And his body was racked with pain, J
While his heart beat fast when his memory sought
To bring back old times again.
He figured his profits — a good round sum
They seemed to his fevered mind;
But a spectre grim there seemed to come, I
When a balance he sought to find;
He saw on the wall, and in clear relief,
A ghostly group of mechanics appear,
And they built a gallows, and talked of a thief,
Who, dreading his death, was standing near;
And straightway from out of the midst of them all,
A man walked forth with a face like the dead,
While these words appeared above on the wall:
“He betrayed the country that gave him bread!”
And he that lay on his couch that night,
Gazed trembling forward into the space,
While his heart stood still with a sudden fright,
As the criminal turned--he saw his own face!
