He stood, a tall palmetto-tree With Spanish daggers guarding it; Nor deed, nor word, to him seemed fit While she prayed on so silently. He slew his rival with his eyes; His eyes were daggers piercing deep,-- So deep that blood began to creep From their deep wounds and drop wordwise: His eyes so black, so bright that they Might raise the dead, the living slay, If but the dead, the living, bore Such hearts as heroes had of yore: Two deadly arrows barbed in black, And feathered, too, with raven's wing; Two arrows that could silent sting, And with a death-wound answer back. How fierce he was! how deadly still In that mesmeric, hateful stare Turned on the pleading stranger there That drew to him, despite his will: So like a bird down-fluttering, Down, down, beneath a snake's bright eyes, He stood, a fascinated thing, That hopeless, unresisting, dies. He raised a hard hand as before, Reached out the gold, and offered it With hand that shook as ague-fit,-- The while the youth but scorned the more. "You will not touch it? In God's name Who are you, and what are you, then? Come, take this gold, and be of men,-- A human form with human aim. "Yea, take this gold,--she must be mine She shall be mine! I do not fear Your scowl, your scorn, your soul austere, The living, dead, or your dark sign. "I saw her as she entered there; I saw her, and uncovered stood: The perfume of her womanhood Was holy incense on the air. "She left behind sweet sanctity, Religion lay the way she went; I cried I would repent, repent! She passed on, all unheeding me. "Her soul is young, her eyes are bright And gladsome, as mine own are dim; But, oh, I felt my senses swim The time she passed me by to-night!-- "The time she passed, nor raised her eyes To hear me cry I would repent, Nor turned her head to hear my cries, But swifter went the way she went,-- "Went swift as youth, for all these years! And this the strangest thing appears, That lady there seems just the same,-- Sweet Gladys-- Ah! you know her name? "You hear her name and start that I Should name her dear name trembling so? Why, boy, when I shall come to die That name shall be the last I know. "That name shall be the last sweet name My lips shall utter in this life! That name is brighter than bright flame,-- That lady is my wedded wife! "Ah, start and catch your burning breath! Ah, start and clutch your deadly knife! If this be death, then be it death,-- But that loved lady is my wife! "Yea, you are stunned! your face is white, That I should come confronting you, As comes a lorn ghost of the night From out the past, and to pursue. "You thought me dead? You shake your head, You start back horrified to know That she is loved, that she is wed, That you have sinned in loving so.