The City Of Refuge Poem by Bessie Rayner Parkes

THE law which was given abides,
By mountain and valley and wood,
The slayer is fleeing, and after him rides
The wrathful Avenger of Blood!

His eyes are aghast with alarm,
His mouth is agape with his dread;
In his ears the quick steps that pursue him for harm
Are blent with the shrieks of the dead.

And his fancy runs shuddering back,
To measure each mile of his flying,
Till it comes to the end of the terrible track
Where the man whom he murdered is lying.

At the sight of his own right hand
His sick heart throbs and flutters
He urges his horse with a fierce command,
As thus to himself he mutters:--

'It was dawn when I laid him low,
And the dawn is approaching again;
I have fled from the sound of the blow,
But it echoes and echoes in vain.

'No water has slackened my thirst,
My lips are unstrengthened by food;
And after my footstep accurst
Swift flies the Avenger of Blood.

'The olives gleam white in the chill night-wind,
Mile after mile that I leave behind,
I am just as near to the dead white thing
Which I left in the shade of the vineyard-spring.
And I see her come through the branching vines,
Flying across their burdened lines;
And I see the smile on her tender face
As she welcomes him to the trysting-place;
And I hate him worst of the sons of men,
I hate him worse than I hated him then!
What is that noise on the chill night-wind?
The Avenger of Blood who rides behind!
Through the valley, and over the hill,
Galloping, galloping, galloping still,
Swimming the river that runs between,
Shouting his curses, himself unseen.
There is the city across the plain!
Fair-built city, but built in vain!
I see the gate in the tall white tower--

He has gained a mile in the last half hour;
Another mile ere I reach the gate--
Another five minutes will be too late!
Clattering onwards, swift and sure,
Rides the pursuer, of prey secure.
Onward and onward, nearer and nearer,
Walls of the city shine clearer and clearer!
The click of the hoof comes sharp on the wind
I know he is cursing me just behind;
I know what the scowl in his eyes is like;
I know he has lifted his sword to strike.
I ride and he rides, and he rides and I ride,
The gate of the city is opened wide,
I leap with a bound from the flash of his sword,
My life is secure in the law of the Lord!
The gate of the city is dropped in his face,
I drop from my horse in the midst of the place,
The tide of his anger is turned at the flood--
Turn backward, turn backward, Avenger of Blood!'