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That made the wild-swan pause in her On a day when they were going
O'er the lone expanse,
1 Rose a ship of France. The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee, Then the Captain's color heighten'd, The snake slipt under a spray,
Joyful came his speech : The wild hawk stood with the down on But a cloudy gladness lighten'd his beak,
In the eyes of each. And stared, with his foot on the prey,“ Chase,” he said : the ship flew forwarıl, And the nightingale thought, “I have And the wind did blow; sung many songs,
Stately, lightly, went she Norward, But never a one so gay,
Till she near'd the foe. For he sings of what the world will be
| Then they look'd at him they hated, When the years have died away."
Had what they desired :
Not a gun was fired.
But they heard the foeman's thunder My life is full of weary days,
Roaring out their doom ; But good things have not kept aloof. | All the air was torn in sunder, Nor wandered into other ways :
Crashing went the boom, I have not lack'd thy mild reproof,
Spars were splinter'd,decks were shatter'd, Nor golden largess of thy praise.
| Bullets fell like rain ;
Over mast and deck were scatter'd And now shake hands across the brink Blood and brains of men.
Of that deep grave to which I go : Spars were splinter'd ; decks were broken, Shake hands once more : I cannot sink Every mother's son —
So far - far down, but I shall know Down they dropt- no word wasspokenThy voice, and answer from below. Each beside his gun.
On the decks as they were lying,
Were their faces grim.
In their blood, as they lay dying,
Did they smile on him.
Those, in whom he had relianco
For his noble name,
With one smile of still defiance
Sold him unto shame.
Shame and wrath his heart confounded, Brave the Captain was : the seamen
Pale he turn'd and red,
Till himself was deadly wounded
Falling on the dead.
Dismal error ! fearful slaughter !
Years have wander'd by,
Side by side beneath the water .
Crew and Captain lie;
There the sunlit ocean tosses
And the lonely seabird crosses
Burnt in each man's blood.
THREE SONNETS TO A
And singing airy trifles this or that, Sailing under palmy highlands Light Hope at Beauty's call would perch Far within the South.
And run thro' every change of sharp I pledge her not in any cheerful cup, and flat;
Nor care to sit beside her where she And Fancy came and at her pillow sat, | sits When sleep had bound her in his rosy Ah pity--hintit not in human tones, band,
| But breathe it into earth and close it up And chased away the still-recurring With secret death for ever, in the pits gnat,
Which some green Christmas crams And woke her with a lay from fairy land. with weary bones. But now they live with Beauty less and
less, For Hope is other Hope and wanders far,
SONG. Nor cares to lisp in love's delicious LADY, let the rolling drums creeds;
Beat to battle where thy warrior stands : And Fancy watches in the wilderness, Now thy face across his fancy comes, Poor Fancy sadder than a single star, And gives the battle to his hands. That sets at twilight in a land of reeds.
Lady, let the trumpets blow,
Clasp thy little babes about thy knee :
Now their warrior father meets the foe, The form, the form alone is eloquent !
| Andstrikes him dead forthine and thee. A nobler yearning never broke her rest | Than but to dance and sing, be gayly drest,
SONG. And win all eyes with all accomplish- Home they brought him slain with spears.
ment: Yet in the waltzing-circle as we went,
They brought him home at even-fall :
- All alone she sits and hears My fancy made me for a moment blest | To find my heart so near the beauteous
Echoes in his empty hall,
Sounding on the morrow. That once had power to robit of content. The Sun peep'd in from open field, A moment came the tenderness of tears, The boy began to leap and prance, The phantom of a wish that once could
Rode upon his father's lance, move,
| Beat upon his father's shield — A ghost of passion that no smiles
“O hush, my joy, my sorrow." restore For ah ! the slight coquette, she cannot love,
ON A MOURNER.
NATURE, so far as in her lies,
Imitates God, and turns her face
To every land beneath the skies,
Counts nothing that she meets with Wan Sculptor weepest thou to take the base, cast
But lives and loves in every place ; Of those dead lineaments that near thee lie ?
II. O sorrowest thou, pale Painter, for the Fills out the homely quickset-screens, past,
And makes the purple lilac ripe, In painting some dead friend from Steps from her airy hill, and greens memory?
The swamp, where hums the dropping Weep on : beyond his object Love can last :
With moss and braided marish-pipe ; His object lives : more cause to weep
have I: My tears, notears of love, are flowing fast, And on thy heart a finger lays, No tears of love, but tears that Love Saying, “ Boat quicker, for the time oan die.
| Is pleasant, and the woods and ways
Are pleasant, and the beech and lime
Going before to some far shrine,
Till all thy life one way incline
And when no mortal motion jars
trod, And Virtue, like a household god
And when the zoning eve has died Promising empire ; such as those
Where yon dark valleys wind forlorn, That once at dead of night did greet Come Hope and Memory, spouse and bride, Troy's wandering prince, so that he rose
From out the borders of the morn, With sacrifice, while all the feet With that fair child betwixt them born. Had rest by stony hills of Crete.
(PUBLISHED IN 1869.)
Or fow-welter'd, - said of a sheep lying on its back • This week.
t Obstinate. I in the furrow,
| Coom oop, proputty, proputty -- that's Ay an' thy muther says thou wants to
what I 'ears 'im saäy marry the lass,
Proputty, proputty, proputty — canter Cooms of a gentleman burn : an' we boäth an' canter awaäy.
on us thinks tha an ass. Woä then, proputty, wiltha ? --- an ass as
A PLAGUE upon the people fell,
A famine after laid them low, Breäk me a bit o' the esh for his 'eäd. Then thorpe and byre arose in fire, lad, out o' the fence!
For on them brake the sudden foe; Gentleman burn ! what's gentleman | So thick they died the people cried burn? is it shillins an' pence!
“The Gods are moved against the land." Proputty, proputty's ivrything'ere, an', | The Priest in horror about his altar Sammy, I'm blest
To Thor and Odin lifted a hand : If it is n't the saäme oop yonder, fur “Help us from famine them as 'as it's the best.
And plague and strife !
What would you have of us ? XII.
Human life? Tis'n them as 'as munny as breäks into
Were it our nearest, 'ouses an' steals,
Were it our dearest, Them as 'as coats to their backs an’taäkes
(Answer, O answer) their regular meals.
We give you his life.” Noä, but it's them as niver knaws wheer
II. a meal's to be 'ad. Taäke my word for it, Sammy, the poor
| But still the foeman spoil'd and burn'd, in a loomp is bad.
And cattle died, and deer in wood,
And bird in air, and fishes turn'd
And whiten’d all the rolling flood; Them or thir feythers, tha sees, mun al
And dead men lay all over the way, beän a laäzy lot,
Ordown in a furrow scathed with flame: Fur work mun 'å gone to the gittin' | And ever and aye the priesthood moan'd whiniver munny was got.
Till at last it seem'd that an answer Feyther 'ad ammost nowt; leaästwaays 'is munny was 'id.
" The King is happy But 'e tued an' moild 'issén dead, an'
In child and wife ; 'e died a good un 'e did.
Take you his dearest,
Give us a life.” XIV. Loook thou theer wheer Wrigglesby beck The Priest went out by heath and hill ; comes out by the 'ill!
The King was hunting in the wild ; Feyther run up to the farm, an' I runs They found the mother sitting still ; up to the mill ;
She cast her arms about the child. An' i'll run up to the brig, an' that The child was only eight summers old, thou 'll live to see ;
1 His beauty still with his years increased, And if thou marries a good un I'll leave His face was ruddy, his hair was gold, the land to thee.
He seem'd a victim due to the priest.
The Priest beheld him,
And cried with joy,
We give them the boy."
The King return'd from out the wild, + The flies are as fierce as anything.
i He bore but little game in hand;