A woman stood with quivering lips and pale, And, pointing to a little child that lay 470 Stretched on the ground, began a piteous tale; How in a simple freak of thoughtless play He had provoked his father, who straightway, As if each blow were deadlier than the last, Struck the poor innocent. Pallid with dismay 475 The Soldier's Widow heard and stood aghast; And stern looks on the man her grey-haired Comrade cast. LIV His voice with indignation rising high Such further deed in manhood's name forbade; The peasant, wild in passion, made reply 480 With bitter insult and revilings sad; Asked him in scorn what business there he had; What kind of plunder he was hunting now; The gallows would one day of him be glad;-- Though inward anguish damped the Sailor's brow, 485 Yet calm he seemed as thoughts so poignant would allow. LV Softly he stroked the child, who lay outstretched With face to earth; and, as the boy turned round His battered head, a groan the Sailor fetched As if he saw--there and upon that ground-- 490 Strange repetition of the deadly wound He had himself inflicted. Through his brain At once the griding iron passage found; [D] Deluge of tender thoughts then rushed amain, Nor could his sunken eyes the starting tear restrain. 495 LVI Within himself he said--What hearts have we! The blessing this a father gives his child! Yet happy thou, poor boy! compared with me, Suffering not doing ill--fate far more mild. The stranger's looks and tears of wrath beguiled 500 The father, and relenting thoughts awoke; He kissed his son--so all was reconciled. Then, with a voice which inward trouble broke Ere to his lips it came, the Sailor them bespoke. LVII "Bad is the world, and hard is the world's law 505 Even for the man who wears the warmest fleece; Much need have ye that time more closely draw The bond of nature, all unkindness cease, And that among so few there still be peace: Else can ye hope but with such numerous foes 510 Your pains shall ever with your years increase?"-- While from his heart the appropriate lesson flows, A correspondent calm stole gently o'er his woes. LVIII Forthwith the pair passed on; and down they look Into a narrow valley's pleasant scene 515 Where wreaths of vapour tracked a winding brook, That babbled on through groves and meadows green; A low-roofed house peeped out the trees between; The dripping groves resound with cheerful lays, And melancholy lowings intervene 520 Of scattered herds, that in the meadow graze, Some amid lingering shade, some touched by the sun's rays. LIX