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Troubled watch till forth the jury come;

There is silence in the midnight—eyes are weeping—

"Guilty!"—is the fatal uttered doom.

For a moment o'er the brothers' noble faces

Came a shadow sad to see;

Then silently they rose up in their places,

And embraced each other fervently.

Oh! the rudest heart might tremble at such sorrow,

The rudest cheek might blanch at such a scene:

Twice the judge essayed to speak the word—to-morrow—

Twice faltered, as a woman he had been.

To-morrow!—Fain the elder would have spoken,

Prayed for respite, tho' it is not death he fears;

But thoughts of home and wife his heart hath broken,

And his words are stopped by tears.

But the youngest—oh, he spake out bold and clearly:—

"I have no ties of children or of wife;

Let me die—but spare the brother who more dearly

Is loved by me than life."

Pale martyrs, ye may cease, your days are numbered;

Next noon your sun of life goes down;

One day between the sentence and the scaffold—

One day between the torture and the crown!