The place is full of whispers -- 'Mark you, sirs, This one is he who struck our moralists mute Before the crime which proved him wholly brute! Mark well his face!' The gaping sight-seers Nudge one another, and no tongue but stirs In awe-struck comment on hat, coat, and boot, Mean smirking smile, base air of smug repute, Worn by some prince of viler murderers! Nay, I like most these lank-tressed doctrinaires Who cluster round their powerless guillotine; Aquiline, delicate, dark, their thin cheeks mired By their own blood -- these Carriers and Heberts: They only look so proud and so serene: They only look so infinitely tired! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALL THAT'S PAST by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE BEFORE SEDAN by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON AIRLY BEACON by CHARLES KINGSLEY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 8. MUHAIMIN by EDWIN ARNOLD THE THRESHER TO THE WINDS by JOACHIM DU BELLAY THE GLOW-WORM by VINCENT BOURNE |