Then from hand to hand each brother
Took the cup, and blessed each other.
Breathless, I nor spake nor stirred;
But I said in my deep heart, —
" Oh, that this might not depart!
For this type sublime doth show
That, though Kings may yield below
Rein to their wild passions, they
With their life must pass away.
Revenge dies with the parting breath;
All must then be joined in peace;
In the awful realm of Death
All hate and envy cease!
If we would rise to starry heaven,
We must be as pure and bright,
And those erring from the right
Forgive, to be forgiven.
The Spirit of love that reigns above
Hath sworn it shall be so:
The dead that keep their tranced sleep
Have felt the oath below!"