Chapter VII

When famine raged within their guarded hold,
And wan distemper thinn'd their numbers fast,
Crowding the narrow gateway young and old
With the fixed look of desperation passed
From life to dreadful death--a charnel vast--
The reptile's yawning throat entombed the strong,
And lovely of the Tribe:--remained at last
Two lovers only of that mighty throng
To chaunt with feeble voice a nation's funeral song.