Sonnet, by Eliza Conder
These lines refer to a well-attested circumstance which occurred in Egypt.
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With speed as of the ocean-wind there fled
A shuddering captive from the impending stroke,
Whose lash adds scorpions to the bondsman's yoke;
And, gaining on his wild, despairing tread,
That scorpion-lash was near. No pity woke
For thee, lost fugitive! No refuge led
To hope: there was no mercy to invoke;
Nor faith for thee her sanctuary spread.
Even at that latest moment, in his path,
A child whose form the hues of England wore,
The fainting victim saw. He stooped and bore
Him in his arms: --then faced the avenger's wrath.
His tyrants owned the eloquent appeal;
And, with his pardon, stamped on Britain's power the seal.
Eliza Conder,
Watford.