What need to tell of the killing of Kagi the scholar, The wounding of Oliver Brown and the other deaths? Only this remains to be told. When the drunken day Reeled into night, there were left in the engine-house Five men, alive and unwounded, of all the raiders. Watson and Oliver Brown Both of them hurt to the death, were stretched on the floor Beside the corpse of Taylor, the young Canadian. There was no light, there. It was bitterly cold. A cold chain of lightless hours that slowly fell In leaden beads between two fingers of stone. Outside, the fools and the drunkards yelled in the streets, And, now and then, there were shots. The prisoners talked And tried to sleep. John Brown did not try to sleep, The live coals of his eyes severed the darkness; Now and then he heard his young son Oliver calling In the thirsty agony of his wounds, “Oh, kill me! Kill me and put me out of this suffering!” John Brown’s jaw tightened. “If you must die,” he said, “Die like a man.” Toward morning the crying ceased.