I loved you, Evelyn, all the while!

My heart seem'd full as it could hold;

There was place and to spare for the frank young smile,
And the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold.
I will give you this leaf to keep:
See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand!
There, that is our secret: go to sleep!

So hush,

You will wake, and remember, and understand.

INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP

You know, we French storm'd Ratisbon:
A mile or so away

On a little mound, Napoleon

Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,

Legs wide, arms lock'd behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

Just as perhaps he mused "My plans

That soar, to earth may fall,
Let once my army leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,"

Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew

Until he reach'd the mound.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,

And held himself erect

By just his horse's mane, a boy:

You hardly could suspect

(So tight he kept his lips compress'd,
Scarce any blood came through)

You look'd twice ere you saw his breast

Was all but shot in two.

"Well," cried he, “Emperor, by God's grace

We've got you Ratisbon!

The Marshal's in the market-place,

And you'll be there anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans

Where I, to heart's desire,

Perch'd him! " The chief's eye flash'd; his plans
Soar'd up again like fire.

The chief's eye flash'd; but presently

Soften'd itself, as sheathes

A film the mother-eagle's eye

When her bruised eaglet breathes.

"You're wounded!" 66

Nay,”

," the soldier's pride

Touch'd to the quick, he said:

"I'm kill'd, Sire!" And his chief beside

Smiling the boy fell dead.

"HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX"

I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;

I gallop'd, Dirck gallop'd, we gallop'd all three;

"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew? "Speed!" echo'd the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,

And into the midnight we gallop'd abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace

Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turn'd in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shorten'd each stirrup, and set the pique right,
Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chain'd slacker the bit,
Nor gallop'd less steadily Roland a whit.

'T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawn'd clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
At Düffeld, 't was morning as plain as could be;

And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime,
So, Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"

At Aershot, up leap'd of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare thro' the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray:

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other prick'd out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence,

ever that glance

O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance !
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

By Hasselt, Dirck groan'd; and cried Joris "Stay spur!
Your Roos gallop'd bravely, the fault's not in her,

We 'll remember at Aix "

for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretch'd neck and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,

As down on her haunches she shudder'd and sank.

So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;

The broad sun above laugh'd a pitiless laugh,

'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,

And "Gallop," gasp'd Joris, "for Aix is in sight!

"How they'll greet us!"— and all in a moment his roan
Roll'd neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, lean'd, patted his ear,

Call'd my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer;
Clapp'd my hands, laugh'd and sang, any noise, bad or good,
Till at length into Aix Roland gallop'd and stood.

And all I remember is—friends flocking round

As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I pour'd down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)

Was no more than his due who brought good news from
Ghent.

OH, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth,
This autumn morning! How he sets his bones
To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet
For the ripple to run over in its mirth :

Listening the while, where on the heap of stones
The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.

II

That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;

Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows.
If you loved only what were worth your love,
Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you:
Make the low nature better by your throes!
Give earth yourself, go up for gain above!

THE LOST LEADER

JUST for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat -
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;

They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allow'd;

How all our copper had gone for his service!

Rags

—were they purple, his heart had been proud! We that had loved him so, follow'd him, honour'd him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,

Learn'd his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!

Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,

Burns, Shelley, were with us, they watch from their

graves!

He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,

He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!

We shall march prospering,

- not thro' his presence;

Songs may inspirit us, - - not from his lyre; Deeds will be done, while he boasts his quiescence, 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, Pardon'd in heaven, the first by the throne!

SONGS FROM "PIPPA PASSES"

I

THE year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;

Morning 's at seven ;

The hill-side 's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn:

God's in His heaven

All 's right with the world!

II

GIVE her but a least excuse to love me!
When-where

How

can this arm establish her above me, If fortune fix'd her as my lady there, There already, to eternally reprove me?

("Hist!" said Kate the queen;

But "Oh," cried the maiden, binding her tresses, "'T is only a page that carols unseen,

Crumbling your hounds their messes!")