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Updated: May 24, 2025
Ay, there was Richard Bassett, pale and gloomy, half-hid behind a tree at his gate: but Hate's quick eye discerned him: at the moment of passing she suddenly lifted the child high, and showed it him, pretending to show it to the crowd: but her eye told the tale; for, with that act of fierce hatred and cunning triumph, those black orbs shot a colored gleam like a furious leopardess's.
That from the prone Turk's rancorous eye Flashed the barbaric lurid trace Of hate's indomitable hell Such hate as death alone could quell, As death alone could satisfy.
I did not think to glorify gods and kings, Who scourged them ever with hate's sanguineous rods; But who with hope and faith may live at odds? And then these jingling jays with plume-plucked wings, Compete, and laureate laurels are lovely things, Though crowing lyric lauders of kings and gods! Beshrew the blatant bleating of sheep-voiced mimes! True thunder shall strike dumb their chirping chimes.
I have power in this land, why or how does not matter, and I can protect you against all that dwell in it as I swear I will, for did not one of you save my life?" and she glanced at Godwin, "except my lord Sinan, against whom I have no power, for I am his slave." "He is the enemy of Saladin, and may help us for his hate's sake." "Yes, he is the enemy of Salah-ed-din now more than ever.
"Yes, lady," he answered, "I trust you, though why you should risk so much for us I do not know." "Why? Well, perhaps for hate's sake, for Sinan does not rule by love; perhaps because, being of a wild blood, I am willing to set my life at hazard, who care not if I win or die; perhaps because you saved me from the lioness.
It was the climax of hate, and the climax of His unspeakable love. When Your Heart's Tuned to the Music. Surely it was a long, rough road. Its length was not measured by miles, nor years, but by the experiences of this Lone Man. So measured it becomes the longest road ever trod, from purity's heights to sin's depths; from love's mountain top to hate's deepest gulf.
Ho, ho! from all your furthest bounds, pour ye now in, ye bold billows of my whole fore-gone life, and top this one piled comber of my death! Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee.
For Barbara's idea, call it, if you will, her imagination of a God, was one with which none of those things for the hate's sake of which he had become the champion of a negation, held fellowship; and he carried himself toward it with so much courtesy that she had begun to hope he was slowly following her out of the desert places, where, little as she yet knew about God, she felt life impossible.
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