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, So hush, You will wake, and remember, and understand. INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP You know, we French storm'd Ratisbon: On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; Legs wide, arms lock'd behind, Just as perhaps he mused "My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew 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, 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 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; 'T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, At Aershot, up leap'd of a sudden the sun, 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 ! By Hasselt, Dirck groan'd; and cried Joris "Stay spur! 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 Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall, Call'd my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer; And all I remember is—friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; Was no more than his due who brought good news from OH, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, Listening the while, where on the heap of stones II That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true; Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. THE LOST LEADER JUST for a handful of silver he left us, They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver, 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, 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 Morning 's at seven ; The hill-side 's dew-pearl'd; 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! 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!") |