XLII

Fear hath a hundred eyes that all agree

To plague her beating heart; and there is one

( Nor idlest that! ) which holds communion

With things that were not, yet were meant to be.

Aghast within its gloomy cavity

That eye ( which sees as if fulfilled and done

Crimes that might stop the motion of the sun )

Beholds the horrible catastrophe

Of an assembled Senate unredeemed

From subterraneous Treason's darkling power:

Merciless act of sorrow infinite!

Worse than the product of that dismal night,

When gushing, copious as a thunder-shower,

The blood of Huguenots through Paris streamed.