THE BITTERNESS of death and bitterer scorn br Breathes from the broad-leafed aloe-plant whence thou br Wast fain to gather for thy bended brow br A chaplet by no gentler forehead worn. br Grief deep as hell, wrath hardly to be borne, br Ploughed up thy soul till round the furrowing plough br The strange black soil foamed, as a black beaked prow br Bids night-black waves foam where its track has torn. br Too faint the phrase for thee that only saith br Scorn bitterer than the bitterness of death br Pervades the sullen splendour of thy soul, br Where hate and pain make war on force and fraud br And all the strengths of tyrants; whence unflawed br It keeps this noble heart of hatred whole.