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At length there came upon Sordino’s city

An enemy with armies great and strong,

And laid a siege about its buttressed walls,

And since the strongest bulwark sometime falls

Before a cannonading fierce, and long,

So did its self-defences, without pity.

The conqueror did loot and kill and ravage,

While o’er it all the chimes sang forth the hour,

In notes which shamed the horror of that day,

And as he listened said: “Take them away,

Their music hath upon my men a pow’r,

Which makes a saint out of a bloody savage!”

Then from the lofty tow’r they were removed,

Against Sordino’s pleadings, these to spare,

And carried hence, none but the victor knew—

And captive toilers whom at last he slew,—

Their value he surmised and used such care,

As for their preservation it behooved.

The lost chimes, and other poems

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