The maid refuses not the flower, Though silently she turns away ; Before she knew what she had done, It on her bosom lay. O heaven! the longest, brightest life Can bring but one such hour as this! The first confession of deep love Sealed with a bashful kiss! Beneath yon tall and branching oak Within the chapel on the cliff An altar green and mouldering stands, And by it, in their innocence, They join their hearts and hands. Louise! my first and last adored! Upon this well-remembered spot, I pledged the faith which death hath tried; Hath tried-but shaken not. Louise! the pensive primrose here, In spring-time weeps upon thy grave, Meet-bushes, trained by willing hands, Above thy head-stone wave. Still to this consecrated place My faltering steps are duly bound; All cheerful sights, all gladsome sounds, And yet, the dream that I have dreamt THE QUARREL OF FRIENDS. ALAS! they had been friends in youth; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain. Each spake words of high disdain And insult to his heart's best brother: They parted-ne'er to meet again! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining. They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once had been. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. BYRON. THERE was a sound of a revelry by night, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; And nearer, nearer, deadlier than before! Arm! arm! it is-it is-the cannon's opening roar ! Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon nights so sweet such awful morn could rise? And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips-"the foe! they come! they come !" And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose! And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave,-alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse,--friend, foe,-in one red burial blent! ECLIPSE OF THE SUN. WORDSWORTH. HIGH on her speculative tower Stood Science, waiting for the hour Afloat beneath Italian skies, |