human
Ye hold me not! no! no, nor can; This hour has made the boy a man. I knelt before my slaughtered sire, Nor felt one throb of vengeful ire. I wept upon his marble brow, Yes, wept! I was a child; but now My noble mother, on her knee, Hath done the work of years for me!
gpt
Ha! start ye back? Fool! coward! knave! Think ye my noble father's glaive Would drink the life-blood of a slave? The pearls that on the handle flame Would blush to rubies in their shame; The blade would quiver in thy breast Ashamed of such ignoble rest. No! thus I rend the tyrant's chain, And fling him back a boy's disdain!
human
Up, mother, up! I'm free! I'm free! The choice was death or slavery. Up, mother, up! Look on thy son! His freedom is forever won; And now he waits one holy kiss To bear his father home in bliss; One last embrace, one blessing,--one! To prove thou knowest, approvest thy son. What! silent yet? Canst thou not feel My warm blood o'er thy heart congeal? Speak, mother, speak! lift up thy head! What! silent still? Then art thou dead: --Great God, I thank thee! Mother, I Rejoice with thee,--and thus--to die.