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than you,

DON AND JOHN.

THE COLLAR OF FREEDOM. “But the loftier freedom that manhood implies,

Of course, you will gladly forego;
BY J. C. HAGEN.

For your friends, your late masters, have deemI HAD a strange vision while musing at eve,

ed it unwise That did all reality seem ;

Such dangerous boon to bestow. For humanity's sake I would gladly believe,

“Thus, with all the freedom which prudence It may prove to be only a dream.

demands

The black should receive from the white, America's genius all radiant stood, Conferring reward and applause

I trust to your friends, with the chain in their

hands, On the champions brave and the counsellors

To lead you and guide you aright.” good, Who have faithfully fought in her cause.

She ceased, and I started awe-struck and

amazed, She gave her white heroes with liberal hand,

So real the pageant did seem, The honors their valor had earned ; And then with a smile condescending and And I said, as I did when upon it I gazed,

I trust it is only a dream. bland, To her sable-hued champions she turned.

- Christian Inquirer. “None stood by their country more bravely

When ready to sink 'neath her foes, And now in a spirit of gratitude true, Behold the reward she bestows!”

CHILI VINEGAR FOR SPAIN. Round each swarthy neck then a collar she

cast, Inscribed with the words — “I AM FREE!”

Dox. But a long pendent chain through cach collar that passed,

Will you force me, will-I-nill-I, to refrain from Could hardly for ornament be!

hurting Chili?

Oh! how partial and how silly is your conduct, A strange badge of freedom this collar thought don't you see? I,

Why you quietly let Russia trample Poland, And stranger reward for the brave;

Sir, and Prussia And so thought the freedmen, I judged, by the Plunder Denmark, yet to crush a little State sigh

won't suffer me. And piteous look which they gave.

Јонх. . “ This collar of freedom must win you applause,”

Yes, but Denmark, Don, and Poland, are comShe said, “ for all by it may see,

mercially as no land, To those who have battled and bled in her I'm for chivalry a Roland when aggression canse,

stops my trade. How grateful a nation can be.

True, the Czar did Poland smother; Prussia's

Monarch robbed his brother: “And though your late master still hold by the But they neither, one or other, did my customchain,

ers blockade. Lest freedom your ruin should be, They never can make of you chattels again – You shan't murder, you shan't plunder ; if I This collar declares you are free.

knock your Donship under,

It will cost me less to thunder than it would to “You are free to submit, you are free to obey, let you prey.

You are free, if submissive, to live; You must know my toleration of foul wrong And you have the freedom to work for such and spoliation pay

Is a question of taxation - how will intervenAs the white man may grudgingly give.

tion pay?

-Punch.

From the Shilling Magazine. I know not why; but something in her eyes LADY JAY'S LOVER.

Thus wrought on mine, and in her full-lipped

mouth The quiet autumn of my life has come, Pouting, yet pensive, like a child aggrieved, A sober eventide, with yet some gleams Taking its wrongs in sorrow, not in wrath. Of mellowed gold, of smiles serenely sweet, Later I knew how this same pensive mouth Some tender memories of days now dead, Could smile, and how those tender, shaded Some tranquil present joys, some future hopes eyes For here, more for hereafter, and my days Could pierce a soul that now they only stirred Flow calmly on beneath God's loving eye. With an emotion deep but undefined.

And I, like one who after travelling long And thus the time wore on. Hubert and I Has reached a high hill-top, and turns to gaze Were struggling upwards, seeing day by day Upon the route now traversed, pause at times Our efforts bursting into vigorous bud With retrospective eye, and wondering see That promised early bloom and mellow fruit, Clearly set out before me on the plain

And still wrought till the promise of our spring The landmarks that have each a tale to tell Summer fulfilled. And then the day arrived Of fears, hopes, passions, aspirations high, When the world's sun shone brightly forth and Dangers, despairs, sick faintings by the way,

smiled Bold risings up unvanquished.

Upon our new-plucked laurels, and we found

And 'mid all, The world's hand offered us, its massive doors Clearer than all, deeper, more bright, more Flung wide on well-oiled hinges to admit dear

Those whose good wits had struggled long to find More dear a thousandfold ! — rises a shape, The Open Sesame. The image of my young life's one young love.

The world does well I cannot tell when first I saw her face.

To crown success well wrought for. I, for one, Hubert and I - we were young writers both, When hardest pushed and most despondent, felt Striving to earn our crust, because we knew I had no right to claim its smiles until The homes we left had only bread enough I had deserved them. For the world lacks time To feed the helpless ones, while we had hands To spy out“ modest merit,” and to see And hearts and heads — or so, at least, we A man's end in his crude beginning — he hoped

Must show his work complete, and not expect (Not without reason, as the event declared) The world to follow patient every step To win our own, and honour further on, Of his slow progress. The first stage passed. — Hubert and I, I say,

Hubert held aloof, Were wont at times, when work was slack, or Not from false pride, but from an unnamed fear when

That this bright unknown world had unknown The press of it had worn us, to go forth And saunter in the Parks, to watch the tide Fraught with all danger to a temperament Of brighter, idler, richer, prouder lives

Excitable as his. But I beheld Than ours, glide smoothly past.

In the fair field before me this one dream

Amid the host I shall meet Lady May, and face to face Of high-born, high-bred Anglo-Norman girls Shall speak with her; perchance shall touch Nested in carriages, or pacing by

her hand. On horses blood-like as themselves, as calm No more than this I aimed at, dreamt of, As they, but with the self-same latent fire

sought; Ready to flash firom eye and swell in vein Such chance were bliss enough to fill my soul, When the spirit moved them, — always we And lay upon my life a shining crown took note

Of perfect rapture, with a smile of hers
Of one of these patricians. When she came To form the centre jewel.
In all the precious splendour of a youth

Lady May, Of matchless loveliness, each turned to each, Did no warm summer sigh, no summer song Touching an arm and murmuring, “ Here she Of bird, or breath of flower, or voice of rill, comes,

Bring to your heart a whisper, soft and vague, Our beauty, Lady May!” And as she passed, Of how well you were worshipped ? Our eyes and thoughts pursued her unconscious

Caine a day form

When face to face I met her; when I bowed With half-unconscious blessings.

With leaping heart before her; when I heard I have seen

The liquid music of her tongue, that brought No face like Lady May's throughout long years Again that quick up-welling of the tears Of home and travel. As I saw it then

To my hot lids, so full its accents seemed In those first days, ere ever we had met, Of some unfathomed depth of unknown power It was a face that touched some inner spring To move the under-currents of my soul With a quick sympathy that thrilled me That heard and thrilled and sought to underthrough

stand. With yearning tenderness unspeakable;

We talked together. I remember she A love so touched with pity that at times Spoke little of my books, but with a smile To think of her would till my eyes with tears; And simultaneous blush - she never spoke THIRD SERIES. LIVING AGE. VOL. XXXII.

1450

snares

With earnestness, and very seldom smiled Amid the blush of flowers, and 'neath the shade
Without so blushing — those blest lips of hers Of June-leaved trees and song of nightingales,
Repeated from the last a certain passage The Earl, her father, and her mother took
That I had written from the inmost depths Their darling for a summer holiday
Of my heart's core one day when I had scen To the Richmond villa. There, amid a knot
Her pass before me, and had turned away Of chosen guests, the days and nights passed
To ease my soul by pouring forth in words Truly like those of Eden. Lady May
Some portion of its fulness. How I longed Was privileged to ask whatever guests
To tell her so! but I as soon had dared It pleased her to this quiet nest, o'er which
To kiss her hand, or take her glove, or look She held a siniling sway, for it was called
Dr breathe a word of worship. So I smiled Always “ May's villa” by her parents, who
And murmured incoherent words, and looked Declared themselves, like others, visitors.
And felt a fool, and loathed myself and stole The pretty fiction pleased her and pleased
A trembling glance to see if she should smile,

them; Derisive of my boorishness. But she,

And oh! how it enraptured me, when she, Sweet soul, had never such a cruel thought. One night as we were parting, left her hand She, 'mid the stately calm that fenced her An instant within mine the while she said round,

“On Saturday we go to spend a week Was yet as shy as any village maid,

At Richmond, at my villa; you will come ?” And though her birth and training made her I went, of course. I felt that I was mad, school

For I had no illusions; never dreamt Her shyness, she had ready sympathy

That I could e'er be aught to Lady May For bashfulness in others.

Than just what I was then, a sort of friend :

What we said Yet hardly that — for though she always sought More I recall not. Only this I know

To bridge, or hide, the abyss between us That when we parted, and I felt the touch

stretched,
Of her gloved hand vouchsafed to me, I felt I never could forget it, and I felt
Caught of a sudden from the lowly earth The tenure of my footing lay in such
On which I trod, up to St. Paul's third heaven Continued recollection of myself;
All by that hand.

Not in small points and trifling etiquettes,
The season passed, Nor yet in aught befitting to a man
And rarely chanced it that a week went by Who holds his manliness and dignity
Without our meeting. In the early days As things inherent to his state, and deems
Of our acquaintance, I was wont to speak He only merits the regard he wins !
Of her to Hubert. Steadily I spoke,

From those above him in the social scale
Stilling my pulses, tutoring my voice, While he maintains them – but in subtle points
To cheat him and myself into the thought Which lie beyond the certain boundary
That naught of passion tinged the reverence That marks each grade upon that social scale.
With which I viewed her. Hubert never I knew this always; and I also knew
smiled,

That – though herself unconscious of the Nor never questioned : silently he heard :

thought Until at last, one night, when I came home, I carefully kept dormant, should she wake My heart so brimful of her that I spoke To my idolatry - awake to know Less guardedly, perchance, than was my wont, My humble homage was the love that man Or some thing in my face or in my voice Bestows on woman; just the love that Eve Betrayed me, Hubert shook his head and Inspired in Adam- the patrician blood sighed.

Would lift itself against me, make her feel
That silenced me. Thenceforth between us rose As I had injured her - with treachery
The barrier of a secret. 'Twas the first

Had stolen into her confidence to tako
And last, and only one; but there it stood; Presumptuous advantage of the place
And in the intercourse of every day,

Her kindness had accorded. We who had lived as brothers, inly felt

This I knew, The unacknowledged pain of such reserve, And knew each day I saw her must increase And felt it all the more that either strove Tenfold the love, tenfold the agony, To disavow it, and to seem as though

Tenfold the hopelessness and yet I weni! Unconscious of the gull between us fixed. I went, thinking it madness: for my youth,

Starved of youth's joys by manhood's work Upon the sloping banks of quiet Thames,

and care, Beneath the hill that's crowned by pleasant Hungering for happiness, athirst for love Sheen,

Sought them alone, deemed them the one reward A house there stood amid its garden fair Of honourable toil and hours well spent As those of paradise.

In manly labour, spurning silken caso • This Eden bloomed No less than vice :- I went, knowing that these For Lady May. For often, when the heat Were to be shown me, made to float before And thröng of crowded rooms had paled her My dazzled sight, like ignes fatuii, chcek,

But never to be tasted. Or that her tender nature craved to be

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out

To learn the deeper secret that the years

Certain it is, that if she once had shown Slowly unfold. How a great love becomes The slightest consciousness of what I felt Its own reward; how its most holy flame The faintest sense of what I might have felt Warms, purities, expands the heart and brain ; Had her eyes drooped from mine, her colour Makes a man godlike with the sacred force

risen And elevation it accords to him;

When I addressed her ; had she turned aside How, the love-lesson learned, the love thrown A moment from my glance — then all in vain back

I had struggled not to burst the gates that held By one extends into a wider sphere,

The swelling torrent of my mighty love.
And takes the world into its great embrace.

She never dreamt of it: she was not proud,
She treated me as friend and equal, still

Was pleased to have me near her, sought me
My lady! O my darling! O my love!
How, as those days I spent beside thee float

Amid her high-born guests, distinguished me Back on my memory, my heart awakes

Above them all. But in those very acts
And makes them present! all the joys alive,
The pain so deadened by Time's mellowing hand of the barrier between us making love

Was marked unconsciously the constant sense That all my thoughts of thee are teniler-sweet

'Twixt her and me a possibility As dying June days, even song of thrush,

Not once to be admitted. In her mind Moonlight on water, flow'rs that through the She never shaped such thought; but there it night

lay Unseen waft odours, cooing of the doves

A dormant embryo one word of mine In summer woods ! My blessing on thee, Might wake and fashion. So I held my breath

sweet! The joy was all thy giving; all the pain

To keep it sleeping and unshapen still. Was born of circumstance. I thank my God,

And so 'twixt Heaven and Hell five days No thought of thee is tinged with bitterness ;

passed by, My memory has never to record A frown of thine, a word less kindly toned,

Five days and nights. Into what little space

May the concentrate essence of a life
A hand withdrawn. Across the gulf of Time
I look upon thee as the men of old

Be Love-condensed !
Looked on the angels sent with messages

The sixth day, Lady May Direct from God.

And I were in the garden. 'Neath a beech

That waved the verdant layers of its boughs If I have spoken aught That hath brought courage to a fainting heart, I sat beside her. While she grouped her flow

With soft upheaving o'er a rustic seat Hath waked a soul to higher, holier aims,

ers, Hath given light in darkness, marked the way That leads to Heaven – 'twas thou, beloved ! She had bid me read to her St. Agnes’ Eve,

And, as I read, the hand that held the bloom 'twas thou That wast that angel-messenger 'twixt God

Drooped on her knees, and all her angel face

Grew lucent with the light of lier sweet soul. And me, His servant, teaching me to speak.

Just so unto the eyes of Porphyro It matters not that all unknown to thee

Had Madeline appeared. Ah, Porphyro, Thou workedst out thy mission :- - Love thro'

Thy heart's own instinct to thy heart had told thee,

The boldness of thy venture would approve And God through Love, chose well their mes

R:ther than mar thy ciuise with Madeline ! senger.

She loved thee, Porphyro; and women call I think there's not an hour of all those days I spent by Lady May I could not now

That noble courage in the man they love

Which in the unloved were basest insolence Clearly remember. Even now I see Each flower she loved the best; large luscioas The mildest Christian maid could scarce forgive

To see her thus, and I alone with her
roscs,

And all the summer in the balmy air
Apricot-tinted, heavy with the wealth
Of odour rich vet suhtle; jasmine stars,

And my life's summer in its fullest prime Studding with light the dark of sombre green ; My eyes upon the book — my heaving heart

And I to keep my voice untremulous,
Fervid, full-blooded cloves; magnolias white,
Each bloom a vase, filled up and brimming o'er From bursting into eloquence of love ! -

I to refrain from falling at her feet,
With perfume on the balmy summer air

And telling her how all of me was given These, and a hundred others, to this day

Unto her solely — how my heart and brain Bring her before me as I saw her then,

Were by the love of her enlarged, enriched, And still shall see her till the day I die.

Ennobled and unfolded, — she my Moon,

I her Endymion, worshipping with pain Those days with anguish and with rapture And passionate yearnings not to be declared ! filled!

What might have been I know not: but what Sometimes I wonder how I ever kept My heart in silence; never by a word,

I must remember to my dying day. A look, a tremor of the hand, a sigh,

A step came down the path - a buoyant Betrayed the passion that filled all my being!

step,

was

And then a young man's voice, a young man's I could not sleep again beneath the roof face,

That sheltered him her lover — so I feigned Full of glad confidence and of the sense An urgent summons calling me away. Of bringing and receiving happiness,

Had it been possible I would have fled Burst through the boughs beside us.

Upon the instant, not again to see

May arose; That love-look on her face. I almost wished Up to her temples leaped the sudden tide She knew I loved her, that her tender soul Of love and welcome in a circling flush Might bid her veil it, and replace its light Of vermeil rapture.

With decent pity for the man who went Sydney come !” she said, Forth from her presence with a dying heart “ And I not know it!”

Into an empty world.
O'er my sight there spread

Did she divine A veil of darkness — in my ears arose

Aught of my agony ? I sometimes feel A rush of many waters — on my brain Nigh sure she guessed it: for I saw a change A merciful numbness pressed.

Come o'er her face — a quick inquiry spring

I cannot tell Up to her eyes as mine encountered them, Distinctly what then happened. I believe And then they fell, and then a troubled fushSome form of introduction was gone through; O Heaven! how diff'rent to the blush that I dimly heard my name pronounced and his

burned Lord Clydesdale — and I dimly saw him bow, My life's life out anon! — distressed her face, And bowed, no doubt, responsive. Then they And her voice trembled. went,

Then I turned to go, Or I went which I know not. But I woke · And closed the door between us, and outside Out of my trance of agony, and found

I paused to man myself ere going forth Myself there in the garden all alone.

With dying heart into the empty world. Alone, beside the water; gazing down

The handle turned full softly: then appeared Into its languid depths.

Her face, suffused with a pitying pain

That brought my soul before her on its knees How well a man

To kiss her garment's hem. Might rest down there, with all that even

She spoke my name : weight

“ Consuelo wants to follow you. It seems Of slow, cold water gliding over him,

And here she smiled a little tender smile And whispering to the unrevealing sea

“ You've made him faithless to me: since his The secret both would keep. Oh, to forget,

love Low pillowed in the ooze, this sudden stun Is yours now more than mine, he shall be That lay upon me like the whelming rocks

yours; That crushed the Titans ! Oh, to make ex. I give him freely.” Here she took the dog tinct

Into her arms and kissed his head, the while This dull, numb agony, ere it should wake Her sweet eyes filled with tears, and then she To all the keen perception of itself

pressed I knew must follow !

Him silently into my arms and turned,

And the door closed, and I was left alone.

Just then at my feet A faint, complaining, wistful cry arose :

Long years of travel followed; for I felt I turned, and gazing upward to my face

My usual world too small to hold my grief: With such a look of human sympathy

I must go forth and wander up and down As seldom speaks from human eyes, I saw Among the high- and bye-ways of the earth, May's dog, Consuelo, that ne'er left her side, Self-goaded to a ceaseless restlessness, That scarce vouchsafed a motion of his tail Until the vastness of the world should grow To any blandishment from other hand; Upon its sense and dwarf it to itself, A nervous creature, shy and cold and strange

And make it feel what a mere speck it was To all but her, to her the soul of love,

In man's time and the universe - what then Living but in the circling atmosphere

In God's own Heaven and in Eternity ?
Of her life-giving presence. As I turned,
He stirred his tail and whined again, and Consuelo never left me till the day
reared

He breathed his little faithful loving life
His little paws against my knee, and sought Out softly in my arms, his tender eyes
To lick my listless hand.

Gazing upon me till the films of death

For ever veiled them. Softly now he lies

That turned the tide Where mighty sighings of the Desert wind And current of my thoughts : I truly think Sound ʼmid the cedar-boughs of Lebanon. That saved me. Bending down upon my knee, I took the little creature in my arms,

Then I returned to England, and we met; And pressed him nestling to my aching heart - She - Lady Clydesdale — mother, wife — with Was not his aching with the self-same pain ?

all And kissed his glossy head, and let the rain Her girlish beauty ripened to a rich, Of my released tears fall thick on it.

Full, perfect womanhood. But, as we met,

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