Fulvia (continued)

'Twas but a moment's ire — the next, withstood —
Yet, in that moment, how my hungry spleen
Ran to the fierce triumvir's wife for food,
Through the long lapse of centuries between!
And, by that ready reference, proved its kin;
Strange! how my angry mood sped back through time
To gust my fancy with the ancient crime;
Impracticable thought! unwelcome sin!
I gauged again the depth of years, and found
My Master, pleading in His hour of grief,
For friends who did not minister relief,
And foes who mock'd Him, and stood brawling round
His divine silence! — How distinct they were, —
The woman's vengeance and the Saviour's prayer!