- not through his

We shall march prospering,

presence;

Songs may inspirit us, not from his lyre;

Deeds will be done, while he boasts his quies

cence,

Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire: Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,

One more devil's-triumph and sorrow for angels,

One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!

There would be doubt, hesitation and pain, Forced praise on our part-the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again!

Best fight on well, for we taught him strike gallantly,

Menace our heart ere we master his own;

Then let him receive the new knowledge and

wait us,

Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!

THIS

MISCONCEPTIONS

HIS is a spray the Bird clung to,
Making it blossom with pleasure,
Ere the high tree-top she sprung to,
Fit for her nest and her treasure.
Oh, what a hope beyond measure

Was the poor spray's, which the flying feet hung

to,

So to be singled out, built in, and sung to!

This is a heart the Queen leant on,

Thrilled in a minute erratic,

Ere the true bosom she bent on,
Meet for love's regal dalmatic.

Oh, what a fancy ecstatic

Was the poor heart's, ere the wanderer went on Love to be saved for it, proffered to, spent on!

THE LOST MISTRESS

ALL'S over, then: does truth sound bitter

Α

As one at first believes?

Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly,
I noticed that, to-day;

One day more bursts them open fully

You know the red turns gray.

To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?

May I take your hand in mine?

Mere friends are we,

well, friends the merest

Keep much that I resign.

Each glance of the eye so bright and black,
Though I keep with heart's endeavor,

Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, Though it stay in my soul for ever!

Yet I will but say what mere friends say,

Or only a thought stronger;

I will hold your hand but as long as all may,
Or so very little longer!

THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER

SAID

I - Then, dearest, since 'tis so,

Since now at length my fate I know,

Since nothing all my love avails,

Since all, my life seem'd meant for, fails,

Since this was written and needs must be

My whole heart rises up to bless

Your name in pride and thankfulness !
Take back the hope you gave,

Only a memory of the same,

I claim

- And this beside, if you will not blame; Your leave for one more last ride with me.

My mistress bent that brow of hers,
Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs
When pity would be softening through,
Fix'd me a breathing-while or two

With life or death in the balance: right!
The blood replenish'd me again;
My last thought was at least not vain:
I and my mistress, side by side
Shall be together, breathe and ride,
So, one day more am I deified.

Who knows but the world may end to-night?

Hush! if you saw some western cloud
All billowy-bosom'd, over-bow'd
By many benedictions

sun's

And moon's and evening-star's at once
And so, you, looking and loving best,
Conscious grew, your passion drew
Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too,
Down on you, near and yet more near,
Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!

Thus leant she and linger'd — joy and fear!

Thus lay she a moment on my breast.

Then we began to ride. My soul
Smooth'd itself out, a long-cramp'd scroll
Freshening and fluttering in the wind.
Past hopes already lay behind.

What need to strive with a life awry?

Had I said that, had I done this,
So might I gain, so might I miss.
Might she have loved me? just as well
She might have hated, who can tell!
Where had I been now if the worst befell?
And here we are riding, she and I.

Fail I alone, in words and deeds?
Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
We rode; it seem'd my spirit flew,
Saw other regions, cities new,