. Poems . ir flight. Sudden a clash of arms, — a gleam Of fire of torches ! From her dream Choy waked, and on her threshold saw. Dread sight which chilled her blood with awe, Standing with panting voice and breath, Mai Taie, Mother of Death, Cruelest of all the Amazons, Slayer of all convicted ones Who braved the tyrants wrath and hate. Choy called on Boon. Too late ! too late ! Boon fettered lay with gag and chain; Most piteous eyes, faithful in pain, Unto her mistress lifting still. With blows and jeers wreaking their will. The soldier women, fierce and strong, Dragged weeping Choy and Boon
. Poems . ir flight. Sudden a clash of arms, — a gleam Of fire of torches ! From her dream Choy waked, and on her threshold saw. Dread sight which chilled her blood with awe, Standing with panting voice and breath, Mai Taie, Mother of Death, Cruelest of all the Amazons, Slayer of all convicted ones Who braved the tyrants wrath and hate. Choy called on Boon. Too late ! too late ! Boon fettered lay with gag and chain; Most piteous eyes, faithful in pain, Unto her mistress lifting still. With blows and jeers wreaking their will. The soldier women, fierce and strong, Dragged weeping Choy and Boon along The by-ways of the silent town, And flung them, chained and helpless, down Into a dark and loathsome cell. Soon as their footsteps echoes fell Faintly afar, Choy whispered low, — O Boon, dear Boon ! tell me hast thou Confessed? Dear Lady, no ! she cried. No tortures tyrants ever triedShall wring from me one word of blameAgainst Phaya Phi Chitts dear instant, flashing through Choys heart. THE STORY OF BOON. 227 Strange instinct swept. Tell me who artThou, Boon, she said: why dost thou clingTo me through all this suffering?All other women I have knownHad left me now to die Boon, conceal from me no more !Tell me the truth in this dread hour !Then, looking newly at her face,She saw it beauty had, and grace ;Saw that the feet were lithe and hands were small and smooth : each signOf tender nurture and high bloodThis loving woman bore, who stoodTo her as slave. Unearthly sweetGrew Boons pale face, as to the feetOf Choy, all crippled, chained, she crept,And, as she strove to speak, but weptAnd sobbed, — O Lady dear, forgiveThat I deceived thee ! I but liveFor thy dear Duke. I am his wife !Dumb wonder sealed Choys lips. A strifeOf fierce mistrust warred in her last, stern-faced, Tell me the rest,She said. Closer, more humbly stillBoon crept, and said, — Lady, I will;And, by the heart of Buddha, thouCanst but forgive when thou dost knowT
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Keywords: ., bookauthorjacksonh, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookyear1892
