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 THE 
 
 EPIC OF A DAY 
 
 BY AN 
 
 ENGLISH YEOMAN
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THh 
 
 EPIC OF A DAY. 
 
 BY AN ENGLISH YEOMAN. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 r 'i"BLI:-HED BY TEMPLEMAN, 36 GREAT PORTLAND 
 STREET. W. 
 
 / rice Three Shillings mil Sixpence.
 
 ■ /5f 
 Sff/ 
 
 TO 
 
 A LADY, 
 
 WHO HAS BEEN AS A MOTHER TO MY CHILD ; 
 
 THESE 
 
 FRAGMENTS OF RHYME, 
 
 ARE, WITH SINCERITY, RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 8S39£
 
 THE EPIC OF A BAY. 
 
 SCENE. — .4 Forest near the sea coast. Evening. 
 
 i. 
 Man's panorama cycles day by day, 
 
 His life yields epic scenes and thoughts that fly 
 Like flickering lights and shades, and fade away 
 
 Into death's vista of Eternity. 
 
 ii. 
 A tempest weeps its wail o'er human woe ! 
 
 The ocean's sobs subside now one by one ; 
 A stout ship sails o'er others sunk below, 
 
 And waves, woo, dance, and sparkle in the sun 
 
 m. 
 The mountain torrents join their foaming loves, 
 
 With gems from rocks, — from forests, garlands gay, 
 'Mid song of birds, and perfumes from the groves, 
 
 To grace the joy of nature's holiday.
 
 IV. 
 
 The dark woods' weighted branches dimly frowned 
 In soundless solitude ! — A twitter plays 
 
 From branch to branch ! — A feathered flight to ground 
 Starts life's prompt greeting to sun's burst of rays. 
 
 v. 
 
 Its glory ripened all the western sky — 
 Flung heaps of gold and many a silver ray 
 
 Into eve's azure lap, to nature's sigh, 
 As time's free guerdon, to a toilworn day. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The mountain tops, still held the burnished gold, 
 Their sides were mantled by eve's silvery sheen, 
 
 The love-lipped streamlets paused, and lisping told 
 Their mirth to budding banks they played between. 
 
 VII. 
 
 From forest shade, to upland's paler light, 
 T ,vo forms advance across the dewy green ; 
 
 One pure and lovely being draped in white, 
 Contrasts the other's noble form and mien. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 He wore a helmet decked with waving plume ; 
 
 And scarlet tunic — belted to his side 
 Were slung the weapons war makes man assume, 
 
 To strike for home ! for right ! for honor's pride.
 
 IX. 
 
 His stern bronzed features marked a time-tried mind, 
 As of the soul, the peril-dinted shield, 
 
 Which fronts alike the thoughts by hope refined, 
 And fate-forced strife that marks life's battle field. 
 
 x. 
 
 A lull in war-won triumphs, respite gave 
 
 Of one short day, for freedom's warrior chief, 
 
 To visit scenes again, and meet a brave 
 And beauteous girl, whose love was life's belief. 
 
 XI. 
 
 With loveful purpose, after lapse of years, 
 
 Was ' Leonardo Vianesi,' come, 
 To meet the maid who sighed for him her prayers, 
 
 And now was guiding to her happy home. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ' Lilla Patri ' a pastor's only child, 
 
 Beloved by all who felt her gentle sway, 
 
 That ministered to pain, or wrong beguiled 
 To better impulse, or a worthier way. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 With parent's sanction, she might seaward roam 
 The mountain path, and her protector meet, 
 
 She now is guiding to her peaceful home, 
 
 Where happy hearts, his presence, wait to greet.
 
 XIV. 
 
 They now had met, who thro' long silent years, 
 
 Still loved — How shall she quell her throbbing heart ? 
 'Tis calmed by that same smile, and kiss that bears, 
 
 The trace, as 'twere of when they last did part. 
 
 xv. 
 The fairy form now oft in playful mood, 
 
 With joyous song burst flitted far away, 
 And gathered flowers from the way side wood, 
 
 To wreathe a garland for this happy day. 
 
 xvi. 
 He follows thro' the devious flowery brakes — 
 
 His guide, her silvery voice that faintly starts, 
 Responsive echoes, as each sound awakes 
 
 A thrill from nature thro' their love-filled hearts. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 She culled her choice of tinted gems of spring, 
 
 And sat to wreathe them 'neath a sheltering tree ; 
 
 He knelt beside, to watch her task begin, 
 And sing gay songs of love and chivalry. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Fear not, tho' thou dost charm me ! 
 
 And balmy odours fling, 
 No breath of mine shall harm thee, 
 
 Gay tinted gems of spring.
 
 To gaze on thee, I'm roaming 
 O'er hill and mossy dell, 
 
 Or where the torrent's foaming, 
 To feel thy floral spell. 
 
 Hail ! fragrant festoons sparkling, 
 In sun and glistening dew ; 
 
 When eventide is darkling, 
 
 More lavish perfumes strew. 
 
 Oft lulled in dreams I wander 
 
 In groves and lovely bowers — 
 
 'Midst day-life's strife I ponder 
 
 And sip calm joy from flowers. 
 
 XVI i u 
 The floral wreath now decked his manly arm, 
 
 Which twined the girl reclining on his breast 
 With guileless joy, and that ethereal charm, 
 
 Of virtue wrought, — by soul to soul expressed. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Her upward glance was oft turned to his face, 
 To read the deep-lined thoughts engraven there ; 
 
 Impressing with nobility and grace, 
 
 Emotions, his pure eloquence made clear.
 
 XX. 
 
 She asks him to recall that vivid scene, 
 
 Of years gone by, when she was then so young, 
 
 And he, the one for whom her prayer had been, 
 That she might cling with love, as then she clung. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I saw thee first, a gentle child, 
 
 Haste o'er the battle-field where foemen lay, 
 
 And pause to soothe their pain — they faintly smiled 
 
 With looks that thanked, and thoughts, words ne'er 
 can say. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Like some pure spirit hovering near the strife, 
 To cool the lips, or bind the bleeding gash ; — 
 
 Men strove to slay ! but thou, to save a life ! 
 I blushed for manhood and false glory's clash. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " The crimson tide of battle swept me past, 
 
 And yet mine eyes thy flitting step would seek ; 
 
 I dared to wish that moment were my last, 
 If thou wert near to look, to smile, to speak. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 — " The victory won ! man's mad havoc o'er ; 
 
 I neared a cottage, there to seek brief rest — 
 A piercing shriek for help — as from the door, 
 
 The saviour child I sought,- sank on my breast.,
 
 XXV. 
 
 " A troop of wretches, only men in form, 
 
 Sprang forth to grasp their victim, but too late, 
 
 For swift as lightning flashing 'midst the storm, 
 My sword leapt forth, and dealt to each his fate ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Weak tho' I was ; what fury filled my soul ! 
 
 I counted every adverse foe, a fiend ! 
 One impulse only seemed to have control, 
 
 To shield thine honor, — by thee, my life seemed 
 screened. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " I must have looked avenger ! clad with might ; 
 
 Brave men drew back aghast, with lowered swords, 
 They knew and felt my struggle was for right, 
 
 And looked their feelings plain as spoken words. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " Lilla, my sweet, a rueful fear I knew, 
 
 Tho' drenched in blood and maddened by the fray ; 
 'Twas terror made me brave, the fear that you, 
 
 So pure ! so good ! should be these miscreants' prey. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " I vaguely know thine arm sustained my head, 
 Thy lips dropped kisses soft as summer rain ; 
 
 Midst words of • Saved ! ' ' He lives ! ,' ' He is not dead ! ' 
 I sank to sleep oblivious of all pain.
 
 8 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " As death gives birth to life, in forms anew, 
 So from the lifeless trance in which I lay, 
 
 I woke to glorious love, and found 'twas you 
 Had watched and won for me a new life sway. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " Soon was I well to face the mountain breeze — 
 To guide our skiff upon the ocean foam, 
 
 Or ramble hand in hand beneath the trees, 
 
 That waved with gladness round thy happy home. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Again that home, the morn will bring to view, 
 Our greeting will be joy from every heart — 
 
 But you look faint ! let sleep, your strength renew, 
 'Twill lull foreboding pangs of when we part. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " For wine, and cake, and warmth, we do not lack ; 
 
 This sheltered nook, — round thee, my ample cloak ; 
 Will they suffice for our brief bivouac ? 
 
 Whilst we sing songs till daylight hath awoke. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 " Thro' ages long since past, and passing now, — 
 
 On couch of leaves, beneath a spreading tree, — 
 Have lovers sat, — will sit, to breathe love's vow s 
 
 With joy and song, and hope's fidelity.
 
 9 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " Ah ! What is life: — alternate joys and pains; 
 
 Reflection oft fore-casts man's futrre course, 
 He thus, joy's image and the substance gains, 
 
 Unless wrong clothes with shade of chill remorse." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Innocence beams in thy beautiful smile, 
 Spreading around thee, a soul-thrilling joy, 
 
 Winning thee love, all untainted by guile, 
 
 Claiming thee homage, without pain's alloy. 
 
 — As pure as the rays from heaven's bright bow, 
 Thy radiant eyes their glories reveal ; 
 — Trembling as dew-drops, thy gentle tears flow, 
 At fate's parting glance, or sorrow's appeal. 
 
 Calm be thy life, — thy pathway all flowers ; 
 
 Thy slumbers serene,— devotion returned, 
 By love like thine own of joy-brimming hours, 
 
 Till reveries are to realities turned. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " Thy parting words, I've treasured, good Leo ! 
 
 In whispers only have they been expressed, 
 As if from fear their essence might outflow, 
 
 And like thyself, leave me in lingering quest.
 
 10 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " But now my voice shall make them ring again, 
 Upon thy manly breast from whence they sprung, 
 
 Thou'lt find no tone shall bear a tinge of pain, 
 
 Or anxious care which round each word hath clung." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 'Midst parting throbs let's mingle bliss, 
 
 In all its sportive innocence, 
 Since joy so glorious as this, 
 
 So quickly fades from soul and 6ense. 
 
 Love's impulse prompts my roundelay, 
 Inspired by thoughts, thy glance instills, 
 
 Like your sweet songs, whose tones convey, 
 Your hope, which also my heart fills. 
 
 'Midst parting throbs, &c. 
 
 Hath not fond hope that shrinks from view, 
 
 Or starts impulsively to birth, 
 Defied dark fate that ills construe, 
 
 'Gainst all we prize most on this earth ? 
 
 Still duty claims from each control, 
 And faith, invoking reason's power— 
 
 Nay !■ — Pledge no promise from thy soul ! 
 But wait some future, happier hour. 
 
 'Midst parting throbs, &C.
 
 11 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " That hour has come, I've waited for so long ; 
 
 My past and future cycles on in one ! 
 My faith is mark'd by words of thine own song, 
 
 With prayer that's never ceased its joyous tone.' 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 He sang reply in murmuring monotone, 
 
 And soothing whispers to her listening ear, 
 
 And furtive glance in which her dread is shown, 
 'Mid sighs which fail to check the bubbling tear. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 I dare not claim of thee thine heart, 
 And doom it to the pangs that part 
 
 Us perhaps for ever ! 
 Nor may I breathe a hopeless vow, 
 In sad despair made reckless now, 
 By thoughts that sever ! 
 
 ' Italia,' claims my thoughts and life ! 
 I will not link thy love with strife, 
 
 Joy to dissever ! 
 Nor must thine head seek for its rest, 
 A soldier's chilling steel-clad breast, 
 
 No ! No ! Oh ! never !
 
 12 
 
 I'll think of thee glad thoughts like thine, 
 Which blending with the sad ones, — mine, 
 
 Shall cheer me ever ! 
 Thy soul's pure ray, — my guiding star, 
 Shall light my path with beams from far, 
 
 Now, and for ever ! 
 
 XL. 
 
 With thrilling power, her voice, the echo wakes ; 
 
 The startled birds whirr past on rapid wings ; 
 The rustling leaves, a gentle tremor takes, 
 
 As thus responsively the8e words she sings. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 My heart's thine own, and gladly given ! 
 Its plighted vows, have reached to heaven, 
 
 And made it thine ! 
 If part, we must ? come once again, 
 To say, ' Farewell ! ' and soothe my pain, 
 
 That grows with time ! 
 
 Tho' thoughts and life, ' Italia' claims ! 
 Thy love, while that to me remains, 
 
 Is all I ask ! 
 My fervid prayer enshrining thee, 
 As halo o'er thy destiny, 
 
 My sad fond task !
 
 13 
 
 But should'st thou on the battle-plain, 
 Expire unknown, 'mid thousands slain, 
 
 I'll seek that held, 
 And find thy grave, and sink to rest, — 
 To die, and on thy clay-clad breast, 
 
 My life, I'll yield ! 
 
 But thou shalt from the battle-plain, 
 To home, and country, come again, 
 
 And live for me ! 
 My heart for thee, shall throb its life, 
 And I shall be thine own loved wife, 
 
 By heaven's decree ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " How beautiful" ! In raptures, he exclaimed : 
 " The very reflex of my thoughts and prayer. 
 
 Lets alternate our songs, by impulse framed ; 
 
 They'll give me youth, — Thee, wisdom without care." 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Each pulse was honor, every sigh a vow, 
 
 That thrilled with glory thro' his noble soul — 
 
 That flushed with innocence her lily brow, 
 
 And nerved both hearts with heaven's own control.
 
 14 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Yet silence tells what anguish doth prevail ; 
 
 Her very love reveals her sobs of woe, 
 Although her tresses hang as nature's veil, 
 
 To hide the gush of pearly tears that floWi 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 " Oh ! must we part to-morrow ? Ah ! how soon ! 
 
 I, chained to grief ; Thou, led by glory's blaze. 
 Stay, stay ! Oh ! grant this fond heart's holy boon, 
 
 And let my smiles be pure emotion's rays. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " You've snatched these few brief hours from war's fell 
 reign, 
 
 This day of meeting, and of parting too ; fell reign, 
 Forgive my ill-timed grief! I'll smile again ! 
 
 See now, how well I hide my pangs from view." 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Said he, — " We've parted once, tho' years ago ; 
 
 Since then, thy love has lit my manhood's course, 
 ' Midst desolation, treachery, and woe — 
 
 Of priestly guile, deep-leagued with hireling force. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " Oft, when despair has surged upon my soul, 
 Thine angel-smile has flashed across my sight, 
 
 To nerve with quenchless zeal for freedom's goal, 
 And crown me victor of the desperate fight.
 
 15 
 
 XLV1II. 
 
 " To let crime thrive unchallenged, aids the plan 
 
 Of force that grasps, and fraud that drugs the world ! 
 
 A soldier's duty combats wrongs of man, 
 
 With honor's sword, 'neath freedom's flag unfurled. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 " .Few days of hopeful war, will save an age 
 Of slavery, and train of festering crime ! 
 
 While mental freedom bright'ning history's page, 
 Will cast its radiance on to future time." 
 
 L. 
 
 "Talk, not of wars — man's ! woman's ! blighting shame ! " 
 She interposed ; " But of the good they win, 
 
 Behold how right, is blotted out by fame ! 
 And gory bubbles hold the germs of sin. 
 
 LI. 
 
 " The past ! the future ! thy philosophy ! 
 
 Blend with the potent present, so distinct ; 
 Reveal each aspect calm and bright to me, 
 
 Of truth ! faith ! science ! all, together linked." 
 
 L1I. 
 
 She listened, as his fervid words portrayed 
 
 To her some genial charm, and sought to trace, 
 
 What leading purpose, or what impulse swayed 
 His sentiments, which seemed her soul to grace.
 
 1G 
 
 LIII. 
 
 " Life, counts by days ! death, by eternity ! 
 
 For man, whose chance swayed acts are solved in 
 doubt. 
 — Thro' fading ages, myriad races die. — 
 
 The well known marks of one, — by next blurred out. ~fp 
 
 LIV. 
 
 i l Pauseless, onward, endless time e'er flies, 
 
 Nor stays to dictate good for human lot, 
 But ball-like, gathers blended truth and lies, 
 
 And right, that were not right,— if wrong, was not. 
 
 LV. 
 
 " All things are sacred in their time or sphere ! 
 
 Nought can escape the action of this fact, 
 Nor fail to yield an essence, growth, and share, 
 
 Thro' media with affinities to act. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " We feel with force, that love gives double life ; 
 
 — Exalts humanity to blissful tone, 
 It yields by taking — heedless change or strife, 
 
 And weaves another soul within one's own. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 " Whose calm existence, like an unflawed gem, 
 Glows bright with compensating powers of soul ; 
 
 — The future, more than past, belongs to them, 
 Who regulate their lives by self-control."
 
 17 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 " Such knowledge is the glory of the soul ! 
 
 It shows to man, 'midst nature's changing laws, 
 A little of the past, he calls, ' the whole,' 
 
 Of time, he calls, ' his own,'— effect and cause." 
 
 LIX. 
 
 She signed a pause to speculations' sway — 
 
 " Nobler, more purposeful, thou canst not speak — 
 
 How hast thou fared since last we parted,— Say ? 
 The record of thy life, is all I seek. 
 
 LX. 
 
 " 'Twas as a meteor flashing thro' the sky, 
 I watched thy course of triumph from afar ; 
 
 Inwove my love with thy bright destiny, 
 
 And tried to think there might be good in war. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 " 1 read thy safety in that peaceful land, 
 
 That England ! which for full eight hundred years, 
 Has 'scaped invasion's scourge, and calmly planned 
 
 A world of nations, which its greatness shares. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 " I learned to read its history, songs, and life, 
 And felt that I could love it for my home, 
 
 With thee, good Leo, safe from war's vile strife, 
 If, from that happy land you'd no more roam."
 
 18 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Beneath the Upward current of his mind, 
 
 There seemed as if som^ latent grief's control, 
 
 Was pleading for an object undefined, 
 
 And stamped the tenor of his time-tried soul. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 With hands upon his shoulder linked, and eyes 
 That gleamed all tremulous with hope and fear, 
 
 She met his gaze ; — He paused ! what griefs arise ? 
 He clasps her to his breast to hide a tear. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 " Why, now so silent? — muteness, chills me thro' ! 
 
 Say, is it thought, fatigue, or memory's pain ? 
 What has she said ? The one, who lives for you ! 
 
 She meant not wrong ! But your prized love to gain." 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 "I'm twice thine age — each step bestrides a grave, 
 As I advance — One ! e'en perhaps my own ! 
 
 I've snatched this meeting, which a world less brave 
 Than thou, may brand, when I leave thee alone. 
 
 LXVll. 
 
 " Thou art so young, wise, beautiful, and brave, 
 Before thee, all life's spring and summer's joy, 
 
 Before me, death ! Tho' loving, I would save 
 Thy glorious future from such sad alloy.
 
 19 
 
 LXVUl. 
 
 " The goo'd await thee, each to win thee prize 
 Of worthy love, with honor's manly pride ; 
 
 Our meeting, may thy future compromise, 
 If I return no more, to call thee, ' bride.' 
 
 LX1X. 
 
 *\ Defiance to the world ! " she fiercely cried ! 
 " The thought, that thou be wronged, doth teach me 
 hate. 
 Here ! or away ! Tho' thousand times belied ! 
 My love shall live it down, whate'er thy fate." 
 
 LXX. 
 
 As if unconscious that her train of thought, 
 Betrayed the murmurs of a wounded soul ; 
 
 She sang in plaintive accents, sorrow-wrought, 
 The words no longer chained by dumb control. 
 
 SONG. 
 Tell me, hast thou ceased to love me ? 
 
 Can thy proud soul learn to scorn ? 
 One, as true as heaven above thee ! 
 
 With heart as pure as e'er was born. 
 
 Tell me all the wrong I've done thee ? 
 
 How I've changed since last we met ? 
 That thou seem'st with doubt to shun me ! 
 
 And our hopeful joys forget !
 
 20 
 
 Kisses, that thou fondly gav'st me, 
 Are sweet crimes with thee I own, 
 
 From all wrong their charm e'er sav'st me ! 
 What else have I to atone ? 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 He looked the words his tongue would fain have spoke, 
 The heart-felt joy, that pity doth beseech ; 
 
 There fell a tear, his manhood could not choke, 
 Emotions struggled with his faltering speech. 
 
 LXXll. 
 
 He kissed her brow, and gently said, " For you ! 
 
 I'm here this eve, where could I go so well ? 
 To tell my tale of grief, — my love renew ; 
 
 Fore-knowing that such love you'd not repel. 
 
 LXXlll. 
 
 " Thou art the warrior now ! I, but a child ! 
 
 As wavering as the shade that quickly flies 
 Across our path, as we sit here beguiled 
 
 By hope, reflected in each other's eyes. 
 
 LXX1V. 
 
 " Think not Lilla, — my course unsunned by love, 
 
 Loyal, or libertine, man's life must be ! 
 All live life's purpose, and just powers prove, 
 
 — Thou'rt woman now, their latent force to see.
 
 21 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " Look not amazed! Thy blooming hue has flown ! 
 
 — Tho' lovad, and loving one so pure and good, 
 That thou might wish her sister of thine own ; 
 — Nay ! start not from me in such trembling mood." 
 
 LXXVl. 
 
 Her eyes thro' his, peered to his soul with dread ; 
 
 She started from his side with shuddering cry, 
 In piteous pleading accents, feebly said. 
 "Ira doing wrong ! And thou! for whom I'd die !" 
 
 LXXVll. 
 
 His look was god-like, as with manly pride, 
 
 He stood transfixed, " Lilla" he sternly cried — 
 
 " Think'st thou, that I've done wrong ? or truth belied ? 
 To thee — I've sought, and long to make my bride- 
 
 LXXV1U. 
 
 — " To nestle on this breast, to which thou'st clung ; 
 
 None other hath the right or life, but thee !" 
 — With cry of wild exultant joy, she flung 
 
 Herself into his arms with ecstasy. 
 
 LXX1X. 
 
 " Forgive ! Forget ! Oh ! can'st thou cease to shun 
 Me, for my doubting words and impulse wild ? 
 
 'Twas madness ! — super-love of brain o'er strung 
 For thee, who guards as parent would a child.
 
 22 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 "My mind snatched maddened meanings from each word, 
 I thought you married, and your wife still lived ! 
 
 — Nor paused to heed well what my anguish heard, 
 Or pity wculd have claimed grief for bereaved." 
 
 LXXXl. 
 
 " Thy words were holy ! The impulse was of heaven ! 
 
 The doubts, revealed thy heart's integrity ; 
 And prove thee wholly good — not love's blind leaven, 
 
 Could warp thy soul from its strict probity. 
 
 LXXXH. 
 
 " The flowert you placed upon my arm just now, 
 
 All odourous, and glistening with dew ; 
 Shall yield a cooling calm to fevered brow, 
 
 And be gay nature's pledge, — I love but you ! " 
 
 Lxxxm. 
 For ever gone, was every pang of doubt ! 
 
 As garlanding her brow with joy serene, 
 He smoothed her hair, and shook the tangles out, 
 
 And sang to her, his own, and nature's queen. 
 
 SONG- 
 
 Ah ! never cherish thoughts that blame 
 
 Me for a heedless word ; 
 But try to love me all the same, 
 
 As if 't had ne'er been heard-
 
 ■>>'! 
 
 ■)• 
 UK 
 
 You've cancelled every doubt of love, 
 That harboured one dark fear ; 
 
 Then plume new bliss to soar above, 
 The sadness we now share. 
 
 There's truth in impulse, joy in jest, 
 
 And beauty in a tear, 
 That starts to life, and goes in quest 
 
 Of sympathy to cheer. 
 
 Upon my breast let it repose, 
 
 There silently to die ; 
 A kiss shall tinge thy cheek with rose, 
 And light with love thine eye. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 The sweetest smile that ever man had won, 
 Was his, as yielding closer to his breast, 
 
 She asked, — " Was thy wife beautiful, and one, 
 Who added children's love, to joy expressed ?" 
 
 LXXXV- 
 
 " Yes ! Her's was the calm beauty of the soul, 
 More than refinement's polished mould and grace; 
 
 — So mutual was our bliss, — life seemed one whole, 
 The void unfilled, dark sorrow takes its place.
 
 24 
 
 LXXXVl. 
 
 " The well-beloved, are seldom childless here, 
 
 — .Two chubby boys, — two winsome girls, were oars ; 
 
 And the last prattling pledge of anxious care, 
 Pines for a mother's love, and guiding powers." 
 
 LXXXV1I. 
 
 — " Let me be < mother' called, — tho' ne'er thy wife ; 
 
 They'll learn to love their father's destined bride ; 
 'Twill yield thee comfort 'midst thy perilled life, 
 
 To know thine offspring nestle at my side. 
 
 LXXXVIll. 
 
 " Dwell on those themes you'd have your children leam, 
 Scenes of your life, — of her, you mourn the worth ; 
 
 With fervid force, in magic words that burn, 
 
 The dross from out the soul, and wrong from earth. 
 
 LXXX1X. 
 
 " I'll interlude responses to thy lays ; 
 
 Effulgent as my own joy's radiant gleams, 
 As lilies wove 'midst laurels and the bays, 
 
 To tone stern fate, with fancy's vivid dreams." 
 
 SONG 
 
 I glory most in children's love ; 
 
 Their sweet displayed simplicity, 
 Which ranges high as heaven above, 
 
 This world's betrayed duplicity.
 
 25 
 
 Their buoyant glee, and gentle mirth, 
 
 Thei'r tears that pierce with sympathy ; 
 A holy love brings back to earth, 
 
 To soothe life's fierce antipathy. 
 Their loving arms, their sunlit hair, 
 
 Their kisses, free from earthly stain, 
 Their eyes that calm our thoughts of care, 
 
 — Our souls subdue to truth again. 
 
 Their prattle, as of angel tongues, 
 Sublime away our wayward hate, 
 
 And plead to heaven, that belongs, 
 The power to sway our fitful fate. 
 
 HYMN. 
 We can't be always beautiful, 
 
 Upon this changing earth ! 
 But may be ever dutiful, 
 
 To those who gave us birth. 
 
 The child that hath a mother's care, 
 Is blessed by her glad smile, 
 
 Which like the heaven around a sphere, 
 Doth shield and guide the while. 
 
 If it can boast a father's love ? 
 
 More blest it is indeed, 
 To guide as doth the sun above, 
 
 And guard in every need.
 
 20 
 
 'Tis duty, — impulse of the mind, 
 The primal votive prayer ; 
 
 To yield our love, for love enshrined, 
 By sympathy and care. 
 
 Then pity the poor orphan's cry ! 
 
 Its growth thro' unloved youth, 
 'Mid patronage of charity, 
 
 That seems to mock love's truth. 
 
 xc. 
 " With unpledged love, most sacred in its force ; 
 
 With holy faith and hope, to which we cling, 
 To guide us by our own right standard's course. 
 
 Let's sing such songs, my boys and girls shall sing." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 A halo of beauty doth beam in a smile ; 
 
 A soul -sparkling glory e'er thrills in a blush. 
 While one lights the world, and lessens its guile, 
 
 The other exalts with its radiant flush. 
 'Tis infancy's joy-growth developed with life 
 
 Revealing the gladness that wreathes each brief bliss- 
 The pure glow of childhood that meets the world's 
 strife, 
 
 And tints all emotions, from tears, to a kiss.
 
 27 
 
 Twin glories like these, ne'er array life in vain, 
 
 But make the world purer by force of their power, 
 To dignify virtue and lighten strife's pain, 
 
 And deck e'en the humblest with this magic power. 
 Who, boasteth such joy-test, of life, have their share. 
 
 The worthy alone, know to cherish such love, 
 The noble can feel 'tis the soul's joyous prayer, 
 
 What more have the angels to boast of above ? 
 
 xci. 
 " Lilla, recount to me some tale of buoyant glee, 
 
 Of gentle fancy, wreathed with beauty's spells : 
 That my worn mind may share thine ecstasy, 
 
 On scenes, where innocence with calm joy dwells." 
 
 SONG- 
 
 'Twas on an early summer's day, 
 
 I sought the woodland glade ; 
 As listening to a bird's sweet lay, 
 
 A rustic swing I made, 
 
 Each branch I wreathed with some gay flower, 
 
 And festooned with woodbine ; 
 Its canopy, a fragrant bower, 
 
 That formed a floral shrine.
 
 28 
 
 'Tvvas for a pure and lovely child, 
 
 All innocence and glee, 
 Whose laugh rang thro' the sylvan wild, 
 
 With softest melody. 
 
 So joyously that form floats thro', 
 The radiant wreath of bloom, 
 
 That decks the ground with every hue, 
 And wafts to me perfume. 
 
 My soul, — a hope, with fervour sighs, 
 This child may never know, 
 
 A pang to dim those pure bright eyes, 
 Or blanch that cheek with woe. 
 
 In lulled delight, her looks express 
 The fond thoughts of her mind, 
 
 On that fair brow, a kiss I press, 
 And inspiration find. 
 
 xcn. 
 
 " To day, for me, you wove that wreath of flowers, 
 It decks thee now, — but one of poesy, 
 
 Culled in reflection's calm and silent hours, 
 
 Shall tell my faith in life, and love, and thee."
 
 29 
 
 ROUNDELAY. 
 
 Happy and well, 
 Life's glorious spell ! 
 Merry and wise, 
 It's beauties to prize- 
 Active and kind, 
 Homely, refined, 
 With smiles for the sad, 
 And tears for the bad. 
 These bright gems bedeck thee ! — Bride of my soul ! 
 
 Health is thy dower ; 
 Wealth's truest power ! 
 Love is thy task ; 
 If I but ask, w 
 
 Thy pure-hearted smile, 
 To rapture me, while 
 Giving new birth, 
 To jov on this earth. 
 My children shall bless thee ! — Bride of my soul ! 
 
 XCIil. 
 
 " I'll glory in thy children's love alway, 
 
 Their duty win for me, thee, and each other ; 
 
 I'll share with them their grief, their joy, their play, 
 And learn with them, they've found, not lost a mother."
 
 30 
 
 XC1V. 
 
 "If bliss can bless" — he cried — " or joys exalt, 
 Thy pure transcendent love now blesseth me, 
 
 A wife's and mother's duties soon thou shalt 
 Assume, and joy shall grace thy destiny." 
 
 xcv. 
 " Such thought is joy fore-stalled ! — How my heart longs 
 
 To clasp thy children here ! — Oh ! Soul take wing ! 
 Their birthland reach with all our tribute songs, 
 
 This eve — Ye woods! proud England's glory ring." 
 
 xcvi. 
 " A happy thought ! I'll sing of that proud land, 
 
 Which stands exemplar for all other states, 
 In order, worth, and wealth, and world's command, 
 
 And social virtues which defy the fates. 
 
 xcvn. 
 " Of childhood's sport, and love, and mirth, and toil, 
 
 Of woe, and want, and thrall, as well as pleasure. 
 The patriot's hopes, that glow in England's soil, 
 
 And potent faith in truth, its brave sons treasure. 
 
 xcvm. 
 " All hail, old England's sturdy, toiling band ! 
 
 In battle foremost ; — or on ocean's foam ; 
 These stalwart workers, — tillers of theland, 
 
 Who centre all earth's glory in a home."
 
 31 
 
 SONG.* 
 
 The banner of Old England dear, 
 With pride and glory we'll uphold, 
 
 And bravely we'll deserve the fair, 
 As 'tis in song and story told. 
 
 Our conquests, are the fruitful fields, 
 'Midst which a castle-home we rear, 
 
 To guard the treasures nature yields, 
 To yeoman brave, and woman fair. 
 
 Three cheers for England's yeomanry ! 
 
 For those we love, another cheer ! 
 With rights, and duties, — brave, and free ! 
 
 We'll cherish and deserve the fair ! 
 
 The land we till, our toil repays, 
 
 From forest germs, our navy springs, 
 
 Whose flag unfurls its guardian rays, 
 
 O'er all the world, like freedom's wings. 
 
 From honor's path, or duty's claim, 
 
 The ' British Yeoman' ne'er shall swerve, 
 
 But win the garland of fair fame, 
 
 And beauty's wreathing smiles deserve. 
 Chorus — " Three cheers, &c." 
 
 * Music bv the Author, Illustrated 2s , Waud and Co. 
 London, S W.
 
 32 
 
 The victor's crimsoned laurel wreath, 
 We may not win, nor care to boast ; 
 
 Each sword may sleep within its sheath, 
 Till duty draws, to guard our coast. 
 
 Here's health ! our captain ever kind ! 
 
 Here's joy[! — each comrade yeoman ! 
 Here's love ! — the fair, who'll ever find, 
 
 We cherish home, and Woman ! 
 
 Chorus — " Three cheers, &c." 
 
 xcix. 
 " My fancy now shall throw a gleam of love, 
 
 Across the path of your true ' British Yeoman ;' 
 His hard and honest hand, let me unglove, 
 
 That it may proudly clasp true-hearted woman." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Again, that young soldier has galloped this way ! 
 Ah! have I not told you :" — The cottage folk say, 
 "That he always stops when he gets to the mill !" 
 They watch his swift course flinging dust to the breeze, 
 Catch a quick glimpse of horse, and red coat thro' the 
 
 trees, 
 And then in full view, he's seen mounting the hill.
 
 33 
 
 He sleekens his pace — lets his steed crop the grass, 
 Joy begins in his face, — then flits, for alas ! 
 He sees not the queen of his heart-bounding love. 
 He lingers in vain, sighing, Where can she be ? 
 And rides on again, but the cottage-folk see 
 Him throw on a rose-bush, as token, his glove. 
 
 His fluttering plume had scarce vanished from sight, 
 When from clustering bloom, a girl clad in white, 
 Springs forth with fair arms outstretched in despair. 
 But this maid sees the glove, — 'Tis pressed to her heart ; 
 With confident love, while gentle tears start, 
 In grief for the absence of one held so dear. 
 
 Again, ere awhile, the true knight of her love, 
 Returns with a smile, she returns him a glove, 
 Which he takes with a kiss, as they stroll o'er the hill, 
 • Neath the trees' mellow shade, till lost to the view 
 Of folks who had said — " Have I not told you ? 
 The reason he stops when he gets to the mill." 
 
 c. 
 " Sing of the sea, this earth's vast brilliant sphere ; 
 
 In heaven's bright crown, as a planet pearled, 
 Where perilled patriot lives are free from fear, 
 
 'Neath some bright banner that defies the world.
 
 34 
 
 a. 
 
 " The sea's a Briton's home, 'tis truly said, 
 His ship, a fragment of his land, whose might 
 
 Proclaims true freedom, where its sails are spread, 
 To teach slaves manhood — despots, human right." 
 
 SONG.* 
 
 Great " Cromwell' made the sea, 
 
 The highway of the world ! 
 Bold ' Blake' soon swept it clean, 
 
 And freedom's flag unfurled, 
 O'er every sparkling wave, 
 
 'Neath time's eternal sun, 
 And for humanity, 
 
 This glorious ' Charter,' wo». 
 
 " Where floats this radiant flag, 
 
 On rampart, or the sea, 
 It shields the brave or weak, 
 
 The slave — makes ever free ! 
 That British oak, is British soil, 
 
 On every swelling tide, 
 Who shelters there, is free as air, 
 
 'Gainst all the world defied !" 
 
 * Husie, by the Authoi, Waud and Co ., London. S.W.
 
 35 
 
 The heavens, lightning lend 
 
 To thrill 'neath ocean's wave, 
 — World round, its pulses send, 
 
 New life to cheer the brave ! 
 To right the wrongs of man ! 
 
 To halo woman's worth ! 
 And glorify the plan, 
 
 That makes free seas — free earth ! 
 
 When * Nelson* fell, he smiled 
 
 Upon the boundless main ; 
 In every British tar, 
 
 That hero lives again, 
 To chastise upstart foes, 
 
 Who dare our fame defile, 
 Or spurn the mast-nailed flag, 
 
 That guards each floating isle. , 
 
 Who, sink our trading ships, 
 
 Wreck part of Britain's soil, 
 And brand us as their slaves, 
 
 No more than fit for toil. 
 Hurl down that dastard crew ! 
 
 Who'd let our sea-homes sink ; 
 The flag that shields the world ! 
 
 Now floats on ruin's brink.
 
 36 
 
 en. 
 " That song reminds — when parting forged love's link, 
 
 I watched thy vessel sail, that left me lone, 
 And sighed in vain, and wept on ocean's brink, 
 
 To waves gave tears, and winds flung back my moan." 
 
 SONG. 
 The ocean was bounding, thy bark spread its sails, 
 My heart-throbs resounding, rebuked the free gales — 
 Blamed sky-kissing sea, and land-loving main ; 
 'Midst foam missing thee, I watched on in vain. 
 
 The eve, found me weeping on verge of the sea, 
 The night, found me sleeping with prayer-dreams for thee. 
 The morn, lit my waking, the waves kissed my feet — 
 Each seaward step taking, more near thine heart's beat. 
 
 My tears intermingled with brine of the sea, 
 Fond sighs, gales out-singled, to waft them to thee ; 
 The same stars that guide me, direct thy course ever, 
 To them I confide thee, doubting thee never. 
 * * * o 
 
 What joys now prevail, Is it fancy, or foam ? 
 A bark in full sail ! and its bowsprit points home ! 
 No more dreams deride, 'tis no phantasy now, 
 You've leap'd to my side, and your kiss cools my brow.
 
 37 
 
 CHI. 
 
 Songs, seems to germinate from songs they sing, 
 
 And when they pause, it is to tell some tale 
 Of mirth or sport, that makes the old woods ring, 
 
 With laughter wavering far upon the gale. 
 
 civ. 
 " Wilt go ? Leo, thy drinking flask refill, 
 
 At that cascade we passed. You know the way ; 
 I urge no haste, tho' perhaps my longings will 
 
 Ere you return. From range of voice, don't stray. 
 
 cv. 
 " My ear will trace thy song notes all along, 
 
 The path and hill from whence the streamlets burst, 
 Tho' Echo quickly answer thy gay song, 
 
 My heart will throb the truest echo first. 
 
 en. 
 *' While you are gone, I'll sing a simple lay, 
 
 That shall recall the thoughts I've heard you sing ; 
 And meet you on the steep, not far away, 
 
 Where echoes seem to play on ceaseless wing." 
 
 SONG. 
 Those dappled meadows, once again, 
 
 With boy-like footsteps, let me roam, 
 'Till memory soothes my manhood's pain, 
 
 And brings back cherished thoughts of home.
 
 38 
 The bloom, that springs from 'neath my feet, 
 
 Will give its odorous welcome now, 
 As when my young heart fondly beat, 
 With harmless mirth, and healthy brow . 
 
 Those dappled meadows, Sec. 
 
 The scenes seem changed from times gone by, 
 'Till chance revives a faded sense, 
 
 Of taste, or touch, to ear, or eye, 
 
 Which takes me back at once — years hence. 
 
 The waving shade the tall trees fling, 
 The rustic seat, — the village bells, 
 
 All start a joy, no wealth can bring, 
 To calm my soul with genial spells. 
 
 Those dappled meadows, &c. 
 
 Some playmates of my youth 1*11 find, 
 
 To talk with as I did of yore ; 
 Perchance there's still one left behind, 
 
 Who'll be a boy with me once more. 
 
 Should he be bowed by toil or care, 
 
 My wealth shall cheer, as once our sport ; 
 
 The charm of having, is to share, 
 
 What life has earned — what fact has taught. 
 Those dappled meadows, &c
 
 39 
 
 cvn. 
 Love, makes the soul feel solitude's keen gloom ! 
 
 She listened till the stillness gave her pain, 
 And walked the way his footsteps must resume, 
 
 'Till her delighted ear caught sound again. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Come ! come again soon ! were the last words that fell 
 
 From lips, upon which in fondness I dwell ; 
 
 Come! comeagainsoon ! thoughts coined from the heart, 
 
 Revealed the deep grief it cost us to part, 
 
 Come ! come again soon ! — pure soul-thrilling sigh ! 
 
 Proclaimed the sweet wish, that I ever was nigh ! 
 
 1 Echo' — I ever was nigh ! 
 
 I'll go again soon, to soothe those fond fears, 
 To kiss that fair brow, and dry those warm tears. 
 I'll go again soon, to worship that mind, 
 And gaze on those charms, in which purity's 'shrined. 
 I'll go again soon, to hasten those smiles, 
 Which linger for me, but which doubt ne'er defiles. 
 ' Echo ' — Doubt ne'er defiles ! 
 
 We'll tell why we parted, what griefs we have known, 
 What joys we have treasured, what constancy shewn ; 
 Our hopes shall be mutual, exalted, and calm, 
 Winning deyotion by love's sacred charm —
 
 40 
 
 More than the world, to each other we'll prove ; 
 With heart joined to heart, in life-hallowed love ! 
 
 • Echo ' — In life-hallowed love ! 
 
 cviii. 
 Their songs had ceased, and stillness reigned profound, 
 
 With ghasdy vividness each scene appeared. 
 A vague dread sprang, as 'twere from joys rebound, 
 
 As anxiously her steps the steep rocks neared. 
 
 ax. 
 
 She saw him on a beetling crag, up high, 
 
 Like monumental effigy in stone ; 
 Beyond, — a brilliant sea-like moonlit sky, 
 
 He stepped mid-heaven, a moment — then was gone. 
 
 ex. 
 
 Her eyes pierce sky, and search the towering rocks, — 
 In silence screamed her soul with helpless dread ; 
 
 Her pulses throb with quick electric shocks ; 
 
 Her ears, made douhly keen, now notes his tread. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 "■ I've come to meet thee, tho' thy loved voice spanned 
 The distance 'tween us, and far echoes woke, 
 
 Now as we ramble back love, hand in hand — 
 Pray tell me Lea, who 'twas with thee spake £
 
 41 
 
 cxn. 
 ' No one ?. How strange ! the voices seemed so plain ; 
 
 I sent you hence, my power of soul to try. 
 I know 'o-morrow, that you're off again, 
 
 And I must steel my heart to say, — ' Good bye ! ' 
 
 cxin. 
 " Some strange emotion makes me feel unnerved, 
 
 I see, you bear a box, as well as flask ! 
 1 tremble as if danger unobserved, 
 
 Lurks in that case, as death beneath a mask." 
 
 cxiv. 
 •' Be not alarmed, the casket I now bear, 
 
 I'll yield at once to any owner's claim, 
 Where hidden ? and how found ? you soon shall hear, 
 
 And frankly then accord me praise or blame. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 ' I'd drank, and filled my flask up at the rills, 
 And reached to pluck some hyacinths that grew, 
 
 High on the jutting rocks, the chasm fills ; 
 
 A chance-moved stone, revealed it to my view. 
 
 cxv I. 
 " 'Tas lain there long, indeed protected well, 
 
 By many wrappers deftly wound about ; 
 Bat by these labels, daylight soon will tell, 
 
 The names and dates, and let the secret out.
 
 42 
 
 CXVH. 
 
 " 1 little cared to take, or leave behind, 
 
 Yet thought that its contents might all explain 
 
 Why hidden ? Perhaps help, the owner find, 
 
 Or serve the truth, and save worth from crime's stain. 
 
 cxviii. 
 " 'Tis heavy, but to-morrow we will prove, 
 
 If it was worth a thought from thee or me ; 
 To-night, we'll make it serve as footstool, love, 
 
 While I tell tales of woman's chivalry." 
 
 AN HISTORIC TALE. 
 
 The evening of a battle day, 
 
 A soldier, who outlived the fray, 
 
 And long had kept his foes at bay, 
 
 A rest, and refuge, sought to find, 
 From their pursuit, now close behind, 
 In chase for blood and gold combined. 
 
 From evening's shade, to morning's gloam, 
 They track his faltering steps, that roam 
 For shelter to an English home. 
 
 Where wounded, faint, oppressed with care ; 
 
 He stands before a lady there, — 
 
 His trickling blood, speaks his life's prayer.
 
 43 
 
 She starts in terror ! pity ! grief! 
 
 Uncertain how to give relief, 
 
 As shouts and steps in moment's brief, 
 
 Approach them, while he scarce can tell, 
 The risk to her, his acts impel, 
 On bended knee, he slowly fell. 
 
 He faintly begged some safe retreat, 
 And sank in death-trance at her feet, 
 Her heart, the only pulse that beat. 
 
 There's no way out ! — no place to hide, 
 Her 'broidery work — what screen beside ? 
 'Twixt life and death ! she must decide. 
 
 With noble thought, 'midst anguish' storm, 
 She sat beside the prostrate form, 
 That wore a rebel's uniform, 
 
 And swept o'er him the skirt she wore, 
 And sweetly sang, at work once more, 
 As pike-heads thundered at the door, 
 
 'Till down, the shattered frame was crushed, 
 And maddened soldiers o'er it nshed, 
 All stained with blood — -by victory flushed. 
 
 With weapons, pointing one by one, 
 
 In fury asking — " Where had gone 
 
 The rebel wretch ?"— She knows of none !
 
 44 
 
 But calmly seated, works on while, 
 They search, and vow with utterance vile, 
 Her answer is a pleading smile. 
 
 " If, of our foe, you will not tell ? 
 
 You ! you ! shall serve our turns as well ! 
 
 Fit fore-taste of such traitor's hell ! 
 
 No further parley ! one exclaims, 
 
 And starts to set the house in flames ; 
 
 But one brave man, their brute speech blames. 
 
 With sword that flashed defiant mood, 
 Alone — he saw, from where he stood, 
 A spur, from 'neath her skirt protrude. 
 
 Her trembling look, his mercies crave ; 
 He bov: ed with homage of the brave, 
 To woman's daring, thus to save, 
 
 A wounded foe, from death and shame, 
 At risk of life, — of home, — of fame! 
 Such chivalry, doth fealty claim. 
 
 She read his glance, and ceased to dread, 
 The danger that o'er-hung each head, — 
 He urged their foe, had elsewhere fled. 
 
 His look, now tells, 'tis for her sake, 
 
 He prompts the answers she doth make, 
 
 Of — whence he came ? — which way did take ?•
 
 45 
 
 That open window, near the ground ! — 
 Enough ! — They follow with a bound. 
 Receding footsteps now resound. 
 
 A beauteous smile, — a sweet adieu ! 
 Is flung to him with soul so true, 
 Who's last to linger in her view. 
 
 What different feelings fill each breast, 
 Of those who've vainly gone in quest 
 Of one, who's now a lady's guest. 
 
 Soon, no more turmoil jars the roof, — 
 In distance sounds the clattering hoof 
 More faint — of safety, yielding proof. 
 
 At turn of road, the armed band, 
 
 In seeming doubt come to a stand, 
 
 But onward urged with purpose planned, 
 
 By one, who looks with pride to where, 
 
 He left a foe, and lady fair, 
 
 To heal by love, wounds or despair. 
 
 He fancies, — from a lattice high, 
 He sees two faces peering nigh, 
 And for their safety breathes a sigh.
 
 4G 
 
 In sign of fealty to the pair, 
 
 He waves his sword, high up in air, 
 
 And wishes too, that he were there. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 " I may not try to match thy thrilling force, 
 
 Of words that breathe and glow with life's own power, 
 
 But let my simple fancy in its course, 
 
 This joy-linked pair, reveal in love's bright bower. 
 
 cxx. 
 " Like some gay Troubadour of old, I'll sing 
 
 A simple tale of honor, love, and beauty ; 
 Of bashful youth, that doth a lady bring, 
 
 To own, when troth is pledged, — love is duty." 
 
 A TROUBADOUR'S ROMANCE. 
 
 A SCENE NEAR 'EVERSLEY,' HANTS. 
 
 When spring-time joys, invite to love, 
 
 And youth and beauty long, 
 And heart's devotion, mutual prove, 
 
 Love's wise, and wisdom's strong. 
 
 Now golden bloom, and glist'ning dew, 
 
 Bespangled hill and mead ; 
 A cavalier, with sword and plume, 
 
 Reined in his foaming steed.
 
 His coming, had been spied from far, 
 
 By maid from lattice high — 
 She'd dreamed of him, of love, and war, 
 
 For which ? was he so nigh. 
 
 This youth had ridden many miles, 
 
 To woo one he loved well ; 
 His flush of joy, — her fluttering smiles, 
 
 Their kindred feelings tell. 
 
 Her welcome to her gallant guest, 
 Was genial, prompt and free ; 
 
 Fond looks, as well as words expressed, 
 Her hospitality. 
 
 She proffers wine with smiling grace, 
 And says, — she scarce knows what, 
 
 Entranced, his gaze dwells on her face, 
 The world beside's forgot. 
 
 She'd saved his life, and risked her fame, 
 And watched him gain new health, 
 
 And felt his honor would disclaim, 
 To win her heart by stealth. 
 
 No longer forced from foes to hide, 
 
 And hunted from his land ; 
 But loyal, — on the conquering side, 
 
 And trusted with command.
 
 48 
 
 No nobler heart e'er fealty swore, 
 
 None, more brave, is famed, 
 For deeds won by the sword he wore, 
 
 Yet bashful, when love's named. 
 
 They contrast joys, and tastes compare, 
 
 Of poesy and flowers ; 
 Their blending fancies, mutual share, 
 
 Thus flit the transcient hours. 
 
 Her hopes, no words of love relieve, 
 
 But talk of war's alarms, 
 Bring fear, ' Farewell !' he's come to breathe 
 
 And leave her longing arms. 
 
 As strolling down a grass-grown lane, 
 
 To tell his love, he tried ; 
 His manly heart throbbed all in vain ; 
 
 His looks, his task deride. 
 
 With woman's own instinctive sense, 
 
 She read his bashful heart, 
 And wittily broke all suspense, 
 
 To make him play his part. 
 
 Upon a primrose bank close-by, 
 
 She cast aside her cloak, 
 With frolic glistening in her eye, 
 
 Thus cheerily she spoke,
 
 4 l J 
 
 " Come ! lay aside this plume and sword ! 
 
 For what have you to fear ? 
 Except our hearts may not accord ! 
 
 But perhaps you do not care ?" 
 
 She donned his plume, strapped on his sword ; 
 
 " Attention ! " then she cried, 
 " In love, or war, ' Forward's' the word, 
 
 For glory, or a bride ! 
 
 " In war, you're brave, but now, dost feel ? 
 
 As timid as that day, 
 When foes made you before me kneel, — 
 
 I turned their steps away." 
 
 He knelt beside his soul's own queen, 
 And breathed love-sighs that charm. 
 
 Her yielding hand, his, clasped between, 
 Her head leaned on his arm. 
 
 Their eyes, reflect their soul's fond gaze, 
 
 Heart, throbs its love to heart ; 
 A mutual kiss, his vow repays, 
 
 For now he'd played his part. 
 
 They wander on, and flowers cull, 
 
 That tell by symbols gay ; 
 Their aspirations beautiful ! 
 
 Their faith shall ne'er decay !
 
 50 
 
 And when they reached the wishing-glade, 
 
 To woo responses given, — 
 By echoing words, their love displayed, 
 
 To win replies from heaven. 
 
 INVOCATION ECHO. 
 
 Let purest blessings ever fling, 
 
 A halo o'er thy noble mind ! 
 Reflective as these echoes ring 
 
 In words, which are my thoughts enshrined ! 
 
 Echo — In words, which are my thoughts enshrined ! 
 
 Each bliss I treasure, is for thee ; 
 
 Perchance, of fond hopes like thine own — 
 Of sweet delight and sympathy, 
 
 Revealing love we both have known ! 
 
 Echo — Revealing love we both have known ! 
 
 To glorify this votive prayer, 
 
 Ere it has time to fade away ; 
 Re-echoing joyous hopes we share, 
 
 Soon crowned by our nuptial day ! 
 
 Echo — Soon crowned by our nuptial day !
 
 51 
 
 In manly tones, responses loud, 
 
 Proclaim to hill and dale. 
 Her ear drinks in the love avowed, 
 
 And joys of life prevail. 
 
 RESPONSIVE ECHO. 
 
 May every joy life's change can bring, 
 
 In ecstacy of bliss impressed ; 
 Supernal o'er thee, radiance fling ; 
 
 Serenely calm, supremely blest ! 
 
 Echo — Serenely calm, supremely blest ! 
 Each charm becomes a doubled treasure, 
 
 Mingling all in one fond joy, 
 Invoking to its fullest measure, 
 
 Life's purest thrills without alloy, 
 
 Echo — Life's purest thrills without alloy. 
 Yes ! If devotion be a prayer r 
 
 Words would fail, e'en in excess, 
 And acts alone reveal more clear, 
 
 Love's homage, to thy soul's impress ! 
 
 Echo — Love's homage Jo thy soul's impress ! 
 
 Be this, the tribute of my soul ; 
 
 E.:ch pulse may throb, each sigh may breathe, 
 Yet swayed by honor's high control, 
 
 Say, more than this, can man achieve ? 
 
 Echo— Say/mcra than this, can man achieve ?
 
 52 
 
 These Echo-themes, their love had sealed, 
 
 He asks, — " Wberee'er I go ? 
 Wilt follow me, o'er flood and field ? ' : 
 
 Her Echo rings, — " E'en so !" 
 
 " Your palfry mount, we've far to ride, 
 
 Before the set of sun." 
 With brief delay, she's by his side, 
 
 His Echo laughs, — " Well done!" 
 
 They journey thro' the woods and dales, 
 
 And leave home far behind ; 
 She tries to guess, but fancy fails, 
 
 To learn what sport's designed. 
 
 And asks him — " Where ? How far ? and Why ? 
 
 This rough and random ride ?" 
 With hearty laugh, he says — " To try 
 
 War's motto, and his bride !" 
 
 She from her brow her ringlets tossed, 
 And said, — " Sir Knight, lead on ! 
 
 I'll risk this trial, at any cost ; 
 My judgment's yet to come !" 
 
 They slowly paced a mossy glade, 
 
 O'er shadowed by trees, 
 Thro' which the tinted sunbeams played, 
 
 And perfume lulled the breeze.
 
 ^3 
 
 It merges in a crystal flood, 
 
 Where laves the drooping spray ; 
 
 To sylvan song, the lilies nod, 
 And roses blush to day. 
 
 Their foaming steeds at blossoms snatch, 
 
 Or paw the sparkling pool, 
 That startles silence with their splash, 
 
 And fragrance makes more cool. 
 
 The trees o'er-arched the gold-sand road, 
 The sun, with sparkles played — 
 
 Along the water, ripples flowed 
 In tracks, like silver braid. 
 
 He keeps the lead, the depth to try ; 
 
 From headway, brambles trim. 
 His name, is murmured with die cry, 
 
 " Art sure thy horse will swim ?" 
 
 The stream had reached the saddle-girth 
 He turned, — their gazes met, — 
 
 She, following with gathered skirt, 
 Upsnatched from out the wet. 
 
 With half-abashed, arch-threatening glance, 
 
 Of mingled mirth and ire ; 
 She points an object in advance — 
 
 A distant church's spire.
 
 And says, " She'll ride again that course, 
 
 Before her bridal day, 
 When he must walk, and lead her horse, 
 
 If not ? — Another may !" 
 
 He leaped from saddle to her side, 
 Now, what more could she ask ? — 
 
 " Kneel at my feet," she laughing cried, 
 "To pardon, now's my task." 
 
 He feigned with gentle force to draw 
 Her trembling lrom her seat, 
 
 " Come ! stand upon this crystal floor ! 
 Or how kneel at thy feet ?" 
 
 For help, arms twine around both necks, 
 She breathes the word — " Forgive ! 
 
 This glassy pool, my hope reflects, 
 Thus mirrored, let us live !" 
 
 A kiss, that seemed her life to drain, 
 
 Was yielded to his breath ; 
 He vowed they ne'er should part again, 
 
 'Till joy gave place to death. 
 
 He vaults upon his neighing steed, 
 And bounding on they dash, 
 
 While mirth gives impulse to their speed, 
 "Midst ripple, foam, and splash.
 
 55 
 
 "The startled thrush, now checked its song, 
 
 And blossoms waved aside, 
 While Echo, lent notes to prolong, 
 
 Joy's cadence ere it died. 
 
 They clear the flood, and gain the field, 
 And past church homeward ride, 
 
 Where blissful vows will soon be sealed, 
 Of Cavalier, and Bride. 
 
 cxxi. 
 A sable cloud now masked the moon's bright orb, 
 As if to match with darkness that still hour. 
 
 One mingling pulse seemed both lives to absorb, 
 With calm emotions swayed by virtue's power. 
 
 CXXIl. 
 
 A pause ensued in songs their fancies wrought, 
 A soothing calm, their senses seemed to steep, 
 
 And midnight's mystic silence o'er them brought, 
 A lulled abstraction, like a wakeful sleep. 
 
 cxxm. 
 As gathering thoughts, will find their certain vent, 
 
 By speech dispersed, or slumber dreamed away. 
 ■So surcharged soul-throbs in dim silence spent, 
 
 By mind's reflective force, or sleep's calm sway.
 
 56 
 
 SONG. 
 
 I almost wish thy heart again, 
 Did revel in its childhood's glee, 
 
 And ceased for ever to retain, 
 
 A thought, — a throb,— a pang for me ! 
 
 Thy holy love, take back again, 
 Its fervour, but reproaches me, 
 
 And doubles every saddening pain, 
 That dims thy happy destiny. 
 
 I would not have misfortune's frown, 
 Blight thy fond joy, while crushing me> 
 
 Nor adverse fate that weighs me down, 
 Chill thy pure soul with misery. 
 
 These words will add another pang, 
 To all thou'st felt, — I've felt for thee, 
 
 Forgive ! Forget ! What late I sang — 
 With hope, I'll battle destiny ! 
 
 cxxiv. 
 Again, the moonlight burst upon the scene, 
 
 So like sun's glory mirrored in cool steel. 
 As if night's essence formed a filtering screen^ 
 
 And life won rest, 'neath a somnolent seaL
 
 57 
 
 cxxv. 
 He paused to gaze, and gazing, ceased to sing, 
 
 To ears that heard not, eyes, now closed from view, 
 By lids upon whose silken fringe doth cling, 
 
 The last warm tear, e'en sleep could not subdue* 
 
 CLXVI. 
 
 She slept, as on a mother's breast, a child, 
 Would sink in gentle slumber to calm rest, 
 
 As if some word, had 'tranced her as she smiled, 
 Unconscious that her pillow was his breast. 
 
 CXXV1I. 
 
 Her upturned features, compassed by his arm ; 
 
 Looked like a baby-face in hood of red, 
 The rippling curls gave such a playful charm, 
 
 As if she'd shut her eyes, and ' Bo-peep', said. 
 
 cxxvm. 
 Around her form, his cloak he softly drew, 
 
 To screen from moonbeams flickering thro' the trees, 
 And shield from mists of odour-laden dew, 
 
 Now wafted o'er them by a velvet breeze. 
 
 cxxix. 
 The hush of nature finds a sweet relief, 
 
 That's thrilled anon, by nightingales' refrain, — 
 The rustle of a branch, a fluttering leaf, 
 
 Or tinkling sheep-bell on the distant plain.
 
 58 
 
 cxxx. 
 
 Each fleeting moment yield some pulsive thought, 
 Her's, — blissful dreams, betiding future joy. 
 
 His, — wakeful meditations, memory wrought, 
 And traced back to the time he was a boy. 
 
 cxxxi. 
 
 — His perilled life ! — hope's delusive charm ! 
 
 His wife's last sigh — his children far away ! 
 The beauteous girl, now sleeping on his arm ! 
 
 His night watch o'er her — morrow's parting day. 
 
 cxxxn. 
 Man's god-like mind, may million ages grasp, 
 
 Yet cannot dictate the next moment's force, 
 That gives new life to world's ! his own death gasp 
 
 Mayhap ! mere atoms' pause in nature's course. 
 
 cxxxm. 
 A sigh, recalls him from his reverie, 
 
 To her, whose angel-soul he guards so well, 
 He lightly lifts his cloak that he may see, 
 
 Her happy face 'neath dreams' enchanting spell. 
 
 cxxxiv. 
 Just then, a song awoke the stilly morn, 
 
 He hearkened its approach from o'er the hill ; 
 Bold, cheerful, ringing, as the hunter's horn ; 
 
 Some traveller lightening care with mirth's good-will.
 
 59 
 
 SONG. 
 
 'Tis when our hearts are full of joy, 
 So lightly bounds the pulse of life ; 
 
 We heed not change, nor fear alloy, 
 To make us note the world's sad strife. 
 
 With hope, whose joy-throbs stifle care, 
 And mirth, to chase keen grief away. 
 
 For others' woe, — no thought to spare, 
 To dim the lustre of life's sway. 
 
 Yet sorrow, with its tearful eyes, 
 And suffering, with its pallid form, 
 
 Will make us yield such joys we prize, 
 To sooth and cheer with pity warm. 
 
 Life, cannot be all bounding pride ! 
 
 Or claim to boast nought else but mirth ; 
 The soul's most sacred thoughts abide, 
 
 Where joy is shared with grief on earth. 
 
 cxxxv. 
 
 Now closer came the wild eolian tones, — 
 Now lost abruptly, and then heard again, 
 
 Their cadences prolonged by night-wind moans ; 
 'Till close upon them, sudden bursts the strain.
 
 60 
 
 SONG. 
 
 In stillness of night, with my boyish delight, 
 
 I gazed on the stars' sparkling beam, 
 
 Remarking with glee, it shed lustre on me, 
 
 ' Till daylight dispelled the wild dream. 
 
 i 
 
 Ah ! Is not our love, like the sparkles above, 
 
 Attracted by glitters that fade ? 
 And wither away, in the light of life's day, 
 
 Thus, leaving the soul self-betrayed, 
 
 Tho' eve hath its charm, and dim morn hath its calm 
 
 'Tis day, gives its glory to man ; 
 To woman as well, with her mystical spell, 
 
 To love and to link thro' life's span. 
 
 cxxxvi. 
 Near came the passing traveller ; — with surprise, 
 
 He viewed the sleeping girl, and soldier guard ; 
 He bowed a greeting, with revering eyes, 
 
 With wish to speak, but by respect debarred. 
 
 cxxxvn. 
 The silent rock, gave answer to his tread, 
 
 Receding o'er the hill towards the plain. 
 Then all is hushed, and every sound seemed dead, 
 
 'Till suddenly footsteps are heard again.
 
 (51 
 
 CXXXVIII. 
 
 Another stranger passed, — spoke free and quick ; 
 
 So ho ! We have a ' Mars' and ' Venus' here !— 
 He disappeared when Leo's pistol's click, 
 
 Made craven haste, outmatch his flaunting leer. 
 
 cxxxix. 
 There're gone ! more silent seems the solitude ! 
 
 Each had revealed his mind by index true, 
 One, soon to prove the worth that crowneth good. 
 
 The other, to have chastisement, long due. 
 
 CXL. 
 
 A flood of moonbeams lent its parting rays, 
 
 To bathe with lustre, blooming dimpled cheeks, 
 
 And dappled rose-tints on the arm that stray?, 
 To clasp his neck with joy that almost speaks. 
 
 CXLl. 
 
 Her parted lips, like unclasped coral links, 
 
 Revealed the pearly teeth, which stayed the flow 
 
 And gush of love, as in her dream she thinks, 
 And breathes his name, " Leo ! my own Leo !' 
 
 CXLIl. 
 
 With scarce felt kiss, responsive to his name, 
 He watched the waking gaze of orbs as bright 
 
 As shooting stars, that fling their silver flame, 
 Across the dusky canopy of night.
 
 G2 
 
 CXL11I. 
 
 " How kind ! how good of thee, my Leo dear ! 
 
 To watch from eve till morn, How could I sleep ? 
 Yet dreams of love, have passed without a fear, 
 
 Forgive ! and for a moment let me weep. 
 
 CXL1V. 
 
 " Thy last song, like an infant's lullaby; 
 
 With syncopated cadences imbued ; 
 Wove love and grief, 'midst which I seemed to die, 
 
 ' Till thy fond kiss, again my life renewed." 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 A smile of rapture chased all tears away, 
 
 With honor's pride, he pressed her to his heart. 
 
 They stood absorbed by thoughts that all else sway, 
 Thus happy souled, in homeward quest they start. 
 
 CXLVI. 
 
 The eastern world, still hides each sunlit ray, 
 Yet western heavens reflect with opal hues, 
 
 The coming glory of the new-born day, 
 O'er them and nature, new life to diffuse, 
 
 CXLVll. 
 
 " As we, along the mountain summit wend, 
 Tell me thy happy dreams ! my Lilla dear." 
 
 " Yes ! happy ! — glorious at their final end ; 
 Such prescient omens, save my so..l frcm civ.
 
 i.; 
 
 CXLV11I. 
 
 " Before I tell thee, let me sing a thought, 
 My brain imbues, 'twill so relieve my mind, 
 
 Of dreamy joy, letheic fancy wrought, 
 
 From day-glare screened, by slumber, soul-refined." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 I long again that hallowed joy to dream ! 
 
 Oh ! waking hours, Why snatch such bliss from me, 
 That life's stern facts, should slay by daylight's gleam, 
 
 Such joy, too glorious for reality. 
 
 I'll woo again such slumber on thy breast, 
 Oh ! blame me not for childish ecstacy, 
 
 In thinking sleepful hours, are far more blest, 
 
 Than beaming day, whose glare drowns phantasy. 
 
 More just, I'll be to thee for guarding me, 
 Thro' day, as well as night's dream -mystery, 
 
 All hours I live, shall glow with love for thee, 
 And make more glad our lives' brief history. 
 
 CXLIX. 
 
 " On yester-eve, when sobs leapt from my heart, 
 
 And gushing tears were wrung from trembling brain ; 
 I wildly gazed to catch some thought apart, 
 From that keen grief, which throbbed each pulse with pain.
 
 64 
 
 CL. 
 
 " Thine eyes glowed love, yet in them gleamed,- 
 Farewell ! 
 
 The fleecy clouds sailed by, like spirits blest, 
 Behind the forest-screen in which they dwell ; 
 
 Its leafage, fed with fancy, my unrest. 
 
 CLl. 
 
 " The moon, so mocking calm, flung cloud aside, 
 And traced dark shadows to my fevered view, 
 
 Amidst the trees where now it paused to hide, 
 Anon, — to shine, and pierce the foliage thro'. 
 
 CLII. 
 
 " The leaves and branches took fantastic forms, 
 As if engraven on moon's silver disc. — 
 
 The oaks, portrayed an ocean tossed by storms, 
 On rocky shores — But thou wert safe from risk. 
 
 CLIII. 
 
 " The drooping pines, next interposed their screen, 
 Like banners waving o'er the battle fray. 
 
 My eyes sought for thee in this awful scene, 
 And hailed thee laurelled victor of the day. 
 
 CLIV. 
 
 " Like giant guard, the blighted cedar stood, 
 The ash, with slender arms and open fingers, 
 
 Bright garlands wave, — the moon with life imbued, 
 Behind the birch's lace-like foliage lingers.
 
 65 
 
 CLV. 
 
 " And there, amid its tracery of leaves, 
 
 That seemed as if 'twere my own bridal veil ; 
 
 I stood beside thee, decked with orange wreaths. 
 With parent* near, — what happy scenes prevail ! 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 " My eyes grew dim, yet seemed to gaze on still, 
 At vivid fancies floating thro' my mind — 
 
 Whate'er they were, thy presence seemed to fill 
 My being with sweet joy — tho' undefined. 
 
 CLVll. 
 
 " My life, was blended all within thine own, 
 Thus giving every joy, a double charm ; 
 
 Whilst thus I dreamed, the night, to morn had flown, 
 Before I knew I'd slumbered on thine arm." 
 
 CLVIll. 
 
 " Deem not such sleep," he said — " a waste of life ! 
 
 'Tis by night's pause in day, life gains new force, 
 To nerve for joy's emotions or toil's 6trife ; 
 
 And man, make new again for nature's course. 
 
 CLIX. 
 
 " In manhood's little span of sixty years, 
 Full twenty, glide away, as lost in sleep, 
 
 That lulls the brain, and mends the frame time wears, 
 And, all the senses in oblivion steep.
 
 66 
 
 CLX. 
 
 " A settled purpose should our lives control ; 
 
 The future, is not all an undreamt dream, — 
 A shadowy figment floating thro' the soul 1 — 
 
 As goes the present, so must the future seem." 
 
 END OF PART r.
 
 67 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SCENE.— Mountains. Valley. A Village Festival. Day-tims. 
 
 1. 
 The wooing zephyr o'er them lightly plays, 
 
 With breath of fragrance in each sunny beam, 
 While golden sparkles fleck morn's pearly haze, 
 
 That veils the valley, and its winding stream. 
 
 ii. 
 " We soon shall climb the mountain range so near, 
 
 Whose lofty summit brings thy home to view, 
 Blest spot ! unto us both, made doubly dear, 
 
 By memory ; joy, and hope we there renew," 
 
 in 
 The jagged peaks, that link this earth with heaven, 
 
 Seem all ablaze, as if of molten gold, 
 And shady valleys, dimples, kisses given 
 
 To nature's rosy blushes, joy-enscrolled.
 
 6H 
 
 IV. 
 
 The full-waked day, now raised the vapour veil, 
 Revealing earth, like a young blushing bride 
 
 To their glad vision, and the home-blest vale, 
 With village gemmed upon the mountain side, 
 
 v. 
 For rest and meditation, they sat down, 
 
 To watch the sunrise chase night's shade away, 
 From gorgeous landscape, forest, lake, and town, — 
 
 Grand symbolled vista of this epic day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Their morning musings, rang out glorious songs, 
 That mocked the lark that sang in its dwarfed sky 
 
 Beneath their feet ; the tiny speck prolongs 
 Its bath of aerial joy and melody. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Now let us carol joy with unchecked will ! 
 
 Thou know'st no word of doubt, can thee reprove. 
 Thou art so good ! let me be wayward still, 
 
 Nor blame, if I blend care with hope and love." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Sing from thine heart, thy joy or grief, fair one I 
 The future takes its tinge from present hours ; 
 
 As unseen clouds obscure the summer sun — 
 So we, due greeting give to rays or showers."
 
 09 
 
 SONG. 
 
 'Twas kind as only thou could'et be, 
 To read my inmost prayer ; 
 
 To watch, to soothe, and smile for me, 
 As if heart-free from care. 
 
 That smile marked glory in thy soul, 
 
 And true joy in thy love ; 
 Thus, all thine anguish to control, 
 
 And such devotion prove. 
 
 I vow to heaven, that I'll repay 
 
 Thee, by a life of truth ; 
 As steadfast as the light of day, 
 
 As fervid as fond youth. 
 
 The sun shall glorify the kiss 
 
 1 give with heart so gay ; 
 Its memory shall be treasured bliss, 
 
 When thou art far away. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 I love thee more, that thou art loved 
 
 By noble and the true ; 
 By holiest joy, be ever moved, 
 
 To thee, 'tis nature's due.
 
 70 
 
 Kind fate hath bliss in store for thee, 
 For me, p'rhaps weary grief ; 
 
 Accord the world thine ecstasy, 
 So pure ! so true ! so brief ! 
 
 Be always kind as thou art now ; 
 
 And love, — by joy repay, 
 Still let that smile adorn thy brow, 
 
 Tho' I am far away. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Their songs had won a listener seated near, — 
 The singer who had passed 'midst Leo's water 
 
 O'er Lilla's slumbers, dreamless of a fear, — 
 He now their morning carol sought to catch. 
 
 x. 
 
 High up in heaven as an eagle's home 
 
 He sat, on topmost crag for vision's stretch ; 
 
 In contemplation felt by those who roam ; 
 And of the distant valley taking sketch. 
 
 XI. 
 
 When all at once, an incident occurred, 
 So trifling in itself, yet with risk fraught ; 
 
 For by a sudden breeze of morning stirred, 
 
 A swift- whirled paper, to their feet was brought.
 
 71 
 
 XII. 
 
 The stranger tried his paper to regain ; 
 
 Leo sprang too, as't passed the chasm's edge, — 
 And with his sword's-point managed to retain, 
 
 As he stepped down, and stood on narrow ledge. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Lilla, in fright, o'er leaped with prayer and gasp ; 
 
 But's poised by Leo's arm that met the shock , 
 And held her safe, as in a giant's grasp ; 
 
 With outstretched sword, thrust firm against the rock. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 From straight to curve, the yielding sword-blade bent, 
 Then snapped asunder 'neath the o'ercharged weight ; 
 
 One dizzy moment more, — They both had spent 
 
 Their last of this life's love, — But death must wait ! 
 
 xv. 
 A looped-cord o'er them, had been quickly flung, 
 
 And he who saved them, hurled back by rebound ; 
 Yet held them firm, as to the rocks they clung, 
 
 And climbed, and stood before him, safe and sound. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 He proved to be the traveller of last night, 
 To their preserver, they due thanks express ; 
 
 He archly said, — " He'd well accord such light 
 And airy trifles, crowned by such success ! "
 
 XVII. 
 
 This prompt, bo.'d rescue, made them mutual friends — 
 He wished his paper had gone to the devil ! 
 
 But wittily his words and wish amends ; 
 
 As all, so near going after, 'twas scarce civil. 
 
 XVIII, 
 
 An interchange of plans and views was made ; 
 
 He'd risked and saved life ; — what greater proof, 
 Or better stamp of worth were need displayed ? 
 
 To win a welcome 'neath a parent's roof. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 His name, he told, — ' Lodore.' From England's isle, 
 
 An engineer, and travelling alone, — 
 An artist, with high gifts, he'd been erewhile, 
 
 But one life's trouble had these views o'erthrown. 
 
 xx. 
 His bold inventive mind had won renown ! 
 
 He now was journeying to a distant state, 
 To carry out rebuilding of a town, 
 
 To which the captured paper doth relate. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The course they took, sloped downward from the moun- 
 tain, 
 
 By paths 'neath pines' and cedars' welcome shade, 
 Converging to the ancient village fountain, 
 
 'Mid factories brisk, with heathful, wealthful trade.
 
 73 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Some pilgrim p'rhaps may recognize this sketch, 
 Of home-crowned joy in this bright peaceful vale, 
 
 It needs but slight imagination's stretch, 
 To fancy it within elysium's pale. 
 
 xxm. 
 Here, groups of sturdy villagers are seen, 
 
 Who wait to give a welcome and attend, 
 The much loved maiden, — their fair village queen, 
 
 Lilla, the pastor's daughter, and her friend. 
 
 xxiv. 
 The children ranged, to greet with welcome odes, 
 
 While men and women in gay garb arrayed, 
 Led on with wreaths, that reached across the roads, 
 
 Until a bank of bloom, all progress stayed. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 Before the porch, the floral banner's held, 
 
 To bar their entrance to the home they sought. 
 
 That all may clasp their hands, by joy impelled, 
 And share delights of memory and forethought. 
 
 xxvi. 
 This scene, Lodore enjoyed, and took his share, 
 
 With graceful zest and hearty merriment. 
 " So far, so good 1" he said, " I do declare, 
 
 To live amid these roses, I'm content."
 
 74 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now, came the village-folks' great burst of sport, 
 As Leo's broken sword, a gap cut out, — 
 
 An avalanche of flowers on them brought, 
 
 'Midst scrambling mirth, and laughter-answering shout. 
 
 xxrni. 
 
 I 
 
 Within home now! what joy of parents' hearts 
 
 Fond tearful eyes! — Tongues bereft of speech ! 
 Silence, by solemn eloquence imparts 
 
 More potent meanings, than mere sound can teach, 
 xxix. 
 The pastor, welcomed all with candid zest, 
 
 Who far and near had come, to share the feast, — 
 Received as friend, was every passing guest ; 
 
 The greatest strangers, noticed not the least. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Amongst his flock, he'd little cause to chide ; 
 
 Each day was as a sabbath, — toil or rest 
 And Sunday-clothes were not put on to hide 
 
 An aching heart, or sin in fashion dressed. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 His gentle wife, so genial to all hearts 
 
 Creating for each wayfarer a home ; 
 And friends and daughter, ministered their parts, 
 
 Which seemed to say, — Thou need'st no farther 
 roam.
 
 75 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Meanwhile, the wreaths were festooned round a pole, 
 Where villagers and children danced with glee, 
 
 To stirring music, with that mirth of soul, 
 Which took its force from pure sincerity. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Skilled sports and targetry, — athletic games — 
 With bold achievement, wins far more for prize 
 
 Than guerdon-garlands which each victory claims — 
 Applauding tones, and love-lit flash of eyes. 
 
 xxxiv. 
 Lodore, soon proved fit leader for the sport ; 
 
 His wit, his jocund spirit, racy glee ; 
 The young and old, the sad and happy brought, 
 
 Within the circle of his revelry. 
 
 xxxv. 
 
 The flowing wine-casks, kept the fountain brimmed, 
 For all who liked, the loving-cup was filled, 
 
 Sobriety, by excess was not dimmed ; 
 Unstinted plenty, — temperance instilled. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 And smoke, — half food, half joy, to soothe life's frets ; 
 
 From fragrant weed, not men alone consume ; 
 But fair ones ' kissing lips, hold cigarettes 
 
 Of lemon-thyme, and lavender's sweet bloom.
 
 7b' 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 From Chlmonanthus' fragrant sun-dried leaves, 
 A healthful drink was handed to each guest ; 
 
 Now grouped in clusters 'neath the shady eaves, 
 Commingling genial converse with sweet rest. 
 
 xxxvm. 
 From plenty's cornucopia, viands flowed, 
 
 'Twixt intervals of song, and dance, and sport ; 
 Kind friends to strangers, bounteous welcome shewed, 
 
 Till atmosphere with joy seemed super-wrought. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 With entry free, and exit from the throng, 
 
 Each unknown face, just claims a passing glance, 
 
 From pleasure-seekers trooping fast along, 
 Led on by sport, or love, or mazy dance. 
 
 XL. 
 
 A man of giant form, with quick, bold tread, 
 
 Swart-visaged, simply clad, fierce aspect bore ; — 
 
 Moved ' midst the festive throng unnoticed 
 And sprang with dagger raised upon Lodore. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Up from his side, with lightning quickness rose 
 A girl of beauty, crowned with matchless grace, 
 
 Whose hands, the dagger-thrust doth interpose, 
 And ward the giant's blow, from Lodore's face.
 
 77 
 
 XLll. 
 
 The blade stood quivering in a tree instead, — 
 
 With arms flung round her father's neck, and look 
 
 That stayed the hands that sought to strike him dead ; 
 Commotion lapsed to silence, as she spoke. 
 
 XLIIl. 
 
 First, to her father, in an unknown tongue, 
 
 That made him snatch the dagger from the tree, 
 
 And proffer him, to whom he meant the wrong ; 
 With breast quick bared. — This act won sympathy. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 " Strike here ! May curses light upon my head ! 
 
 Mistaking thus, one 6tranger for another." 
 " An insult to avenge ! " The daughter said, — 
 
 Lodore now clasped his hand, as if a brother. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 "Wrong, grows wrong !" said Lodore to his friends ; 
 
 " And right wins worth ! That blow, so justly meant ; 
 May yet its object find, and serve both ends, 
 
 Of Justice — punish ! and more crime prevent." 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Unto the tearful daughter, Lilla came, 
 
 To soothe with woman's pity's sweet relief ; 
 
 And urge — No wrong was done, and none did blame 
 Her father ' Sahgan,' — the fierce Gipsy Chief.
 
 ■8 
 
 XLVIl. 
 
 The merry sports went on, but Sahgan stood 
 Bowed by remorse, his daughter, by his side ; 
 
 'Till Lodore pressed their hands, and changed their 
 mood, 
 And sang a name, with charm, that love implied. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 When one flawed love, fades from my breast, 
 'Midst life's e'er-changing scene, 
 
 A sacred joy more manifest, 
 Shall live for ' Isoline. ' 
 
 Should sorrow, fraught with human woe, 
 Up-spring 'midst griefs unseen ; 
 
 One half my life, I'd glad forego ! 
 To sooth thee, ' Isoline.' 
 
 May all thy life, my hopes fufil ! — 
 
 Pure, happy, gay, serene ; 
 'Twill make hope's blessings greater still, 
 If loved by ' Isoline ? ' 
 
 A kiss, shall fondly seal this prayer ; 
 
 A glance, tell all I mean ; 
 My world of love, with thee I'll share ; 
 
 Say, — Yes; sweet ' Isoline!'
 
 79 
 
 XLV1II. 
 
 All blush-suffused, she took his hand and led 
 Him to her father, and spoke in Romanie, 
 
 " The stranger sings my name, now cease to dread 
 When thou art absent, any harm to me." 
 
 XL1X. 
 
 This group drew other singers, and Sahgan 
 
 Relaxed his troubled brow, and kissed his child ; 
 
 Who whispered to him, " Sing" — He thus began, 
 With noble, sonorous voice, untutored, wild. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Love, leaves a languor in the eyes 
 Like lightning left on earth ; 
 
 When rain has wept from summer skies, 
 And sunshine veiled its birth. 
 
 Oh ! leave alone that lambent light, 
 
 Which flings its fluid haze, 
 To thrill the soul — to dim the sight, 
 
 And make the brain ablaze. 
 
 Yet nature knows no higher power, 
 Than lightning of the mind — 
 
 Than love, that's ever beauty's dower, 
 Man's duty, well defined.
 
 80 
 
 For true and steadfast love reflects, 
 
 As prisms in the sun ; 
 Bright tints of joy, grief's shade connects 
 
 Love's light, if fairly won. 
 
 Lodore, with ready rhyme, an answer sung — 
 The genius, that inspired his lyric power, — 
 
 The Gipsy-girl ; who to his side now clung, 
 As to an oak, the tendrils of a flower. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 No sadder thing degrades this world 
 Than man ! whose heart ne'er knows, 
 
 That joy, — pure love ! all else above, 
 To cheer 'midst human woes. 
 
 His breast is but the living grave 
 In which lies tombed each thought, 
 
 That might have been, in life's bright scene, 
 The grandest mind e'er wrought. 
 
 The ceaseless chink of crime-stained gold, 
 
 May find an echo there, 
 And by its tone, repeat the moan, 
 
 That nourisheth despair.
 
 81 
 
 Ah ! shun the heart that knows not love, 
 
 In all the glow of youth ; 
 Whose holy ray, doth light life's day, 
 
 With ever-beaming truth. 
 
 LI. 
 
 A mountaineer accompanied this song 
 
 With flute, and with such marvellous effect ; 
 
 That Sahgan doffed his hat before the throng, 
 In admiration and most marked respect. 
 
 HI. 
 
 Now, some one whispered — " Your salute is lost ! 
 
 He's blind ! " I know it well." The chieftain said, 
 " And more — the noble deed his vision cost, 
 
 Thro' you, to him, is my respect conveyed." 
 
 LIU. 
 
 The poor blind minstrel said — " I'll clasp the hand 
 Of him who spoke" — A grasp of sympathy, 
 
 Now changed to silence, words that sought command, 
 " Once more," said Sahgan, " Play ! This song's 
 for thee."
 
 82 
 HYMN FOR THE BLIND. 
 
 When fate's heavy sable fingers, 
 
 Seal up the living orbs of light, 
 Memoiy with more fondness lingers, 
 
 Amidst all hallowed bliss of sight. 
 
 Vision's blight, — time's aspect alters, — 
 Illumes the past with quenchless rays, 
 
 While present, into future, falters, 
 
 'Mid starless nights, and sunless days. 
 
 Fancy, oft with potent urges, 
 
 Conceptions of some ideal hope, 
 Which with vivid throbbing surges, 
 
 Or with sombre glimmerings grope, 
 
 Throughout the brain's lorn lampless dome — 
 Around the heart that fondly yearns, 
 
 To clasp some loved one to its home, 
 Or weep to memory's sacred urns, 
 
 — To note some welcome foot-falls tone, — 
 Trace words that spring from stranger's hearts, 
 
 Which by such sympathies are shewn, 
 They share the joy, each thrill imparts.
 
 83 
 
 — To smooth the floss of beauty's tresses,— 
 Clasp labour's hard and honest hand, 
 
 And bless the babe, whose fond caresses, 
 Awaken dreams of fairy-land. 
 
 — To win a love from chastened sorrow, 
 Feed hope with joy, evoked from pain, 
 
 Dispelling gloom, each day and morrow ; 
 In sharing kindness — joys regain. 
 
 Thrice blessed are they whose life-lit past, 
 Hath won the right to claim such love, 
 
 And taste that bliss whose throbs forecast, 
 Those sacred hopes that mount above. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 ' Blind Carl,' now left this scene of festive song, 
 To hide the deep emotions of his mind ; 
 
 By lsoline, and Lilla, led along, 
 
 To where the chief place was to him assigned. 
 
 LV. 
 
 With open hearts, each prized some new-found friend, 
 Who mingles songs of love with sterner lays ; 
 
 Lodore, and Leo, with guitar notes blend 
 Sweet concord, yielding all melodious praise.
 
 84 
 
 LVI. 
 
 The merry heart of Isoline, soon caught 
 
 The inspiration of this joyous mirth, 
 With flashing eyes that ever keenly sought, 
 
 Yet playful shunned Lodore's, bright with love's birth. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Ah ! blame me not, that thou dost charm me, 
 And fill my soul with throbbing bliss ; 
 
 Do 1 by thought or deed, e'er harm thee ? 
 That thou should'st leave me lone like this. 
 
 Thine open soul thou place'st before me, — 
 Gay youth and beauty, linked with love ! 
 
 How could I do aught, but adore thee ? 
 Impelled by all the powers above ! 
 
 Say ! hast thou been by me beguiled, — Aye ? 
 
 By one unmanly thought of mine ? 
 And joy — I've felt, when hast smiled ! say? 
 Whose fault has that been ! mine, or thin?. 
 
 Ah ! crush not manhood that can feel for 
 Thy soul, which first must say — Farewell ! 
 
 Time, with blessings soon will heal o'er, 
 
 Some hearts, while some with grief must dwell !
 
 85 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Now music, wiles them in the graceful dances ; 
 
 All heedless of the ribbons round them wove, 
 They're held in silken bonds 'midst msrry glances, 
 
 And asked to buy release, by songs of love. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 The soul, in its loneliness, lingers for love, 
 Like a star flinging radiance down from above, 
 To win some reflection its glory hath made, 
 Yet oft its effulgence projects but a shade. 
 
 Those eyes flash like bright stars — but out on the sea. 
 Those breast- folded arms, ah ! may ne'er enfold me, 
 My name, thy voice carolled in ravishing song, 
 Its echoes in fondness my heart-throbs prolong. 
 
 'Tis more than an echo, the soul sigheth for, 
 And more than the glances of eyes we adore, 
 As stars soft light shining on us from above ; — 
 'Tis the soul's light to soul, to illumine our love ! 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 This sweet avowal, took none by surprise ; 
 
 And Lodore said, with ready wit and will ; 
 " He'd cast her future by her laughing eyes ! 
 
 And read her palm, if he might hold it still ?
 
 86 
 
 SONG.* 
 A gipsy girl, with laughing eyes, 
 
 And ringlets round her rosy cheeks ; 
 Shall read my future in the skies, 
 
 And tell me what each sign bespeaks. 
 Her yielding hand, my lips shall press, 
 
 While in her palm, a ring of gold 
 Shall bribe my charmer to confess, 
 
 What happy fate, the stars unfold. 
 
 A gipsy girl, &c. 
 
 My arm around her waist shall twine, 
 
 While she foretells the blissful day, 
 When I may proudly call her mine ! 
 
 And by devotion, love repay. 
 We'll roam the fields, and read the skies, 
 
 Nor care, nor fear, what fates betide ; 
 But share life's pleasure ere it flies 
 
 From thee, and me, my gipsy bride ! 
 
 A gipsy girl, &c. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 She whispered, — " Deem not my love mere fancy ! 
 
 But judge me by the current of my years ; 
 AH motherless, unloved, from infancy, 
 
 Except by father's stern and anxious cares. 
 
 * Music, by the Authoi, Price 2/- Waud and Co., London, S.W.
 
 87 
 
 LX. 
 
 rt He warned me 'gainst love born of trivial thought, 
 And urged if e'er the passion touched my soul ; 
 
 To give it utter sway, from life inwrought, 
 And test its worth, by powers of self-control. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 " No timid fear of vice, was I e'er taught, 
 
 But proud reliant, sin-defying hate ! 
 With happy life unharmed by deed or thought, 
 
 I make hope's joy, the index of my fate. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 " I never let a stranger's glance subdue 
 
 That purpose which doth guard my heart so well ; 
 'Till love, had made me learn its force from you, — 
 
 Thy word may fix the charm, or break the spell." 
 
 lxiii. 
 "That word, I'll say," he cried, — "if form of speech, 
 
 Can e'er the love I feel for thee, convey 
 The glorious joy, thou'st placed within my reach, 
 
 With such fond impulse, — I will ne'er betray." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 A new born glory, fills this world ! 
 
 'Midst life's tempestuous sea, 
 You've naiad-like my heart's wound pearled ; 
 
 Earth glows in harmony.
 
 88 
 
 Love's ardour, such as you display ; 
 
 Deserves requital given, 
 Effulgent as the light of day, 
 
 Reflected from high heaven ! 
 To light our path of life along ; 
 
 Our love for ever sway ! — 
 Now let fond kisses stay my song ! 
 
 Love's impulse, is life's way. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 " Tell me," — she said, "When thou did'st weave my 
 name 
 
 In song ; I marked you spoke of a flawed love, — 
 Will not a gipsy's love then flaw thy fame, 
 
 And to ambition's aim, a dark ban prove ? " 
 
 LXV. 
 
 " Twill be salvation ! Let few words suffice 
 For you to learn, and judge if I be wrong, 
 
 Or wronged ; by — No ! twas not love, but vice, 
 That made me victim ! but thank God ! not long. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 " That thou'rt a poor and lowly gipsy girl, 
 Is why I love thee ! For contrast, let me tell, 
 
 How I was lured 'midst fashion's dazzling whirl, 
 By titled beauty's flashing flimsy spell.
 
 89 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 " Her guile and grandeur, boyish hope forestalled, — - 
 Exalted rank, bowed to my wayward mood, — 
 
 My artist triumphs, fed by praise that thralled 
 My mind with vanity, which for love stood. 
 
 LXV1II. 
 
 " The vain illusion, like a bubble burst ! 
 
 E'en from our very wedding-day, I found 
 This daughter of a titled Marshal cursed 
 
 With vices 'gendered from the barrack-ground. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 "More man than woman ! — dragoon, than maiden coy ; 
 
 Her haughty coarseness, sweet emotions blight 
 With taunts, — her wealth had bought be for a toy ! 
 
 Pure love ere it was born, was crushed outright. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 " Soon vice and venom, climaxed shameless sin, 
 So reckless, brazen, that a state's decree, 
 
 Released my haggard heart, new life to win, 
 
 And shun this one flawed love, and now I'm free ! 
 
 LXX I. 
 
 " The partner of her crime, a vice-dyed prince, 
 Whose crime both law and perjury helped gloss. 
 
 'Tis said he lurks in this fair province since, — 
 
 And vengeance dreads, if he my path should cross.
 
 90 
 
 LXX1I. 
 
 "Thou knowest all, and I, now know to love, 
 Is to make truth the purpose of the soul ! 
 
 If thou wert grand, or rich, thou'dst fail to move, 
 That sacred joy, thine outcast life makes whole. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 " When I attain the object I've in view; — 
 
 In few short weeks, — again, be by your side, — 
 
 Say ! do my words tell how I worship you ? 
 
 And hallow mutual hopes 'till you're my bride!" 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 " I've learned to love," she said, — " Am by it led ; 
 
 Thou hast my hand, it holds my heart and life ; 
 No joy, or hope, or faith, will serve instead 
 
 Of thee, who'll make the Gipsy girl thy wife !" 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 He took her hand, her breast drew to his own ; 
 
 And kissed, and kissed again, her tear-dewed cheek, 
 And whispered, "Judge me by the truth I've shown," — 
 
 Sweet rippling smiles, her happy joy doth speak. 
 
 LXXVl. 
 
 Lodore's bright genius, seemed aglow with song 
 And flow of verse, as if his current speech ; 
 
 And one who watched him, drank tones from his tongue — 
 That one, was she, his words were meant to reach.
 
 91 
 
 LXXVIl. 
 
 He, with a linguist's ready wit and grace, 
 In dulcet language, rendered Erin's songs ; 
 
 Which told, the wide world is love's dwelling place, 
 And fun as well as faith to man belongs. 
 
 IRISH BALLAD. 
 
 Who lingers ? as she says, ' Good bye ! ' 
 To watch me leave, with anxious eye ; 
 Although it be but for a day, 
 Ere I return to chase away 
 
 The fears of my own Norah. 
 
 Who counts the hours as they glide past ? 
 And when the evening comes at last ; 
 Has wreathed fresh flowers and brimmed the cu 
 To cheer me now the moon is up, 
 
 That lights my path to Norah. 
 
 Who for my homeward step is list'ning ? 
 With parted lips, and bright eye glist'ning ! 
 And oft to meet me trips the lea, 
 With heart of love, and voice of glee, 
 
 That tells the joy of Norah. 
 
 Whose waist yields to my fond embrace ? 
 And beauty's beams, array her face,
 
 92 
 
 As strolling t' wards our humble cot, 
 Where love sheds lustre o'er the lot 
 
 Of thee, and me, sweet Norah 
 
 IRISH BALLAD. 
 
 " 1 vow, that I never will love you again !" 
 
 These words, by a maiden, were sobbed out in pain, 
 
 And made her fond lover ask, " Why ?" with sur- 
 prise. 
 " If you only knew all the taunts people fling ! 
 Of your being led home !— Your arm ina sling ! 
 
 And more shameful still ! with a pair of black-eyes." 
 
 A frown met those words, that so libelled his pride, 
 A smile told those tears, that a jest was implied, 
 
 A kiss that was welcomed, soon charmed away doubt. 
 " My life's proudest boast, is to own that it's true — 
 The Black-eyes ! The Sling ! The Leading home ! too. 
 
 We'll laugh, now we know what your grief was 
 about. 
 
 " Ah ! heed not the jests, with which envy may sting ! 
 Let faith o'er our love, its pure radiance fling ! 
 
 'Twill make me more proud of your lustrous black- 
 eyes !
 
 98 
 
 Confide in the honor, of him whose arms twine, 
 Thy beautiful form, and should sorrow be mine ? 
 For ever, thine arm is the sling I shall prize !" 
 
 BALLAD. 
 
 A youth, of desk and figures tired, 
 By sudden martial ardour fired, 
 And on the impulse thus inspired ; 
 
 Resolved to be a Bold Dragoon ! 
 
 Though he had never crossed a horse, 
 Nor seen the Horse-marines race-course, 
 And friends' advice, had little force ; 
 
 Enlist he would, that very noon ! 
 
 The sergeant, to whom he first spoke, 
 Saw all his fire would end in smoke, 
 As well as money pay the joke ; 
 
 Told him that he must buy his steed. 
 
 It was no sooner said than done, 
 With cash that was not all his own ; 
 A well-broke charger he was shewn, 
 
 A long way off in distant mead. 
 
 He longed to go, and try its metal, 
 But comrades round about him aettle, 
 To fume with punch and other fettle ; 
 
 'Till he is primed with drink and glory.
 
 94 
 
 At length, with trappings and horse-gear, 
 He's sent to bring his charger there, 
 With warning, — not to let him rear. 
 
 He soon came back with woeful story. 
 
 " The horse I've bought, is dead and cold !" 
 Was now the tale he breathless told, 
 "'Twas you ! — and not the horse we sold !" 
 In chorus laughed the gay marines ! 
 
 You asked us all for our advice, 
 A thorough charger, free from vice ; 
 You'll find it cheap, at any price, 
 
 To learn what ' dead-horse riding,' means ! 
 'Midst laughter, all his glory ending, 
 And quickly homeward, his way wending, — 
 His master's money, he'd been spending, 
 
 So he resolved to change his course. 
 To desk and figures, quick returning, 
 With secret shame, he is now burning, 
 While he, the money spent, is earning ; 
 
 He feels he's riding the dead-horse. 
 
 LXXV11I. 
 
 Thus went the hours, the happy and beloved 
 
 In groups were clustered, 'neath the bowers' shade, 
 
 Or 'midst the gardens and the fountains moved, 
 To talk mind's impulse — love, or fancy swayed.
 
 96 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Farmers, seamen, traders, interchange 
 
 Their thoughts on matters patent to their views ; 
 By ready speech, tongues oft give untrained range 
 
 Which sheer impossibility construes. 
 
 LXXXl. 
 
 The farmers' views clash with the engineer, 
 With prefix ' civil,' as if to tell at most, 
 
 How oft civility forms greatest share, 
 
 Of working knowledge, such engineers can boast. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Who tell as ne ws, that drainage of the earth, 
 Rids super-saturation — harming growth ; — 
 
 By subsoil channels, Aerage too gives birth 
 To roots and bloom — vitality to both. 
 
 LXXXHI. 
 
 The ' sewage ' problem, — its sea or landward flow ? 
 
 Too long unsettled, while each nation waits, — 
 Thro' talking schemers' pockets it's made go, 
 
 While parish vestries prey on parish rates. 
 
 LXXX1V. 
 
 The worst of muck, a source of money is, 
 And transposed poisons, premiums of life ; — 
 
 Bees shun not weeds, nor poison-flowers miss, 
 But in them all, find untaxed honey rife.
 
 96 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 A short league off, a sewage-culvert's seen, 
 With intercepting cylinders submerged ; 
 
 Whose segments, alternately hold and screen, 
 
 And lift for U6e, the transposed wealth, deterged. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 A chemist proves in language scientific, 
 
 For land that's cropped by sugar-draining beet, 
 
 Saw-dust saccarized by acid-sulphuric, 
 
 Restores the soil for barley crops or wheat. 
 
 xxxvn. 
 — How garden-crops are helped in growth and yield, 
 
 When interlined on ridge and furrow plan ; — 
 The fore-growth screening, from ridges of the field, 
 
 The after-planting, 'long the furrows ran. 
 
 Lxxxvin. 
 One talked of flying with expanding wings 
 
 And tail for guide, and balance in the air, — 
 A lever power to his pinions brings 
 
 With rods from feet moved as you mount a stair. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Another shews his ' water-walking shoes ;' 
 
 With 'slats,' and ' air- valves,' loose-linked side by side, 
 
 Inflated ' dorsal -prop ' for balance use ; 
 And « hand-staff-paddle' to impel and guide.
 
 )7 
 
 •xc. 
 A seaman gives his views of cyclomotion ; 
 
 The wheelwrights grin, to hear him speak his mind ; 
 On three wheels, drive his Life-boat to the ocean ; 
 
 One wheel each side, and rudder-wheel behind. 
 
 xci. 
 These jousts of speech and cross-cuts of new views, 
 
 Unclothe the bias, habit wears so long ; — 
 For ready purpose, the simplest ways, most choose, 
 
 And interest makes the short stroke straight and strong. 
 
 xcn. 
 The breath of strife, or whirlwind of despair, 
 
 Soon winnows chaff and seed from solid grain. 
 A scene arose in which all took a share, 
 
 And action, over fancy, shewed its gain. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 A cry of Fire ! was heard ; when 'gainst the skies 
 A pillar-cloud of smoke obscured the sun ; 
 
 Rushing sounds, and Babel voices rise, 
 
 And crowds look on, while work has to be done. 
 
 xcrv. 
 A dwelling's basement's soon a bed of flames ; 
 
 With sullen crash, the stories quickly share 
 Same fate, — 'till topmost window, horror claims 
 
 For helpless age and children clustered there.
 
 9S 
 
 xcv. 
 The ' Engines ' come, but aid not those who live I 
 
 ' Escapes,' — alas ; cannot be brought anigh ; 
 As fiery furnace-mouths, each outlet gives 
 
 A vent to roaring flames that lash the sky. 
 
 xcvi. 
 Now promptly, Leo from a timber-stack 
 
 Had fetched four taper poles, and lashed a sheet 
 
 Of canvass on their points. The crowd dashed back, 
 
 And bore it to the scene with pace so fleet. 
 
 xcvn. 
 O'er walls — thro' dwellings, and had raised on high 
 
 This tall life-saving platform, in time — just 
 
 To catch a babe and mother, who risked to die 
 
 Fall-crushed, than in the flames, as't seemed they 
 
 must. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 The sudden weight, collapsed the taper ends, 
 And pendant canvass held them unalarmed ; 
 
 To ground quick lowered, and again ascends ; 
 Each pole held rigidly by men strong-armed. 
 
 xcix. 
 Assured of safety, each that jumped was saved ; 
 
 And plaudits ring above the flames' hoarse roar 
 
 And final crash, near whelming those who braved, 
 
 Yet said, they held four poles and nothing more.
 
 99 
 
 The joy for life thus saved, gave newer bound, 
 
 'Midst mirth that dries the tears from many a cheek, 
 
 While each in telling, had some bright joy found 
 Of Leo's worth they never tire to speak. 
 
 ci. 
 
 The simple artizan, and rustic-folks, 
 
 Sing songs of simple purpose of love-mating ; 
 
 Of boys as boys, with mirth's half-hidden jokes 
 Revealed to girls as girls, for true love waiting. 
 
 RUSTIC DITTY. 
 
 " Come ; Harry dear ! let's nesting go !" 
 My laughing Jenny, said to me ; 
 
 "I'll sing gay songs while resting, Oh ! 
 And watch you climb up every tree. 
 
 " The nests I spy, shall be my boast, 
 
 Their eggs shall count 'gainst those you find, 
 
 And forfeits claim, who have the most." 
 A kiss, this compact sealed and signed. 
 
 When hand-in-hand 'cross fields we ran, 
 Each heart so light with frolic's glee : 
 
 To hunt and peep with cautious scan, 
 And search in every copse and tree.
 
 100 
 
 " A nest ! A nest ! " The woods rang out, 
 
 From Jenny's voice in hearty mirth ; 
 " Now Harry mind what you're about ! 
 
 Don't climb the tree, and kiss the earth !" 
 
 I reach the nest all safe and sound ; 
 
 Not so, my clothes, for on decending, 
 E'en I, as well as Jenny found 
 
 Great snags and rents, that needed mending. 
 
 With pins stuck here ; and pins stuck there ; 
 
 And pouting at my pretty plight, 
 She archly said, — " You wouldn't care 
 
 If you had lost your clothes outright." 
 
 So reckless I, — so merry she ; 
 
 As nests we find, with eggs abounding ; 
 Such forfeits now she claims of me ! 
 
 Our laughter thro' the woods resounding. 
 
 First, claimed a secret half her own, 
 
 How ? When ? and Where ? she still asked more ; 
 But my turn came, when I had shewn 
 
 The eggs Fd kept back from my store. 
 
 She called me ' Cheat !' and 'Ragged-jack! ' 
 And vowed, another nest she'd find — 
 
 I whispered, Aye! — she held me back, 
 And blushing said — " Well, never mind !"
 
 101 
 
 Yet she- another nest did find 
 
 So early in our wedded life, 
 And of the blooming babe, said — " Mind ! 
 
 This is first forfeit of your Wife !" 
 
 RUSTIC DITTY. 
 I dwell in a cot down a green shady- way, 
 
 'Midst orchards of fruit and gay-tinted bloom ; 
 I listen to birds as they sing all the day, 
 
 And watch the bright stars thro' eve's silent gloom. 
 I welcome the morn and its sun-sparkling dew, 
 
 With song and gay laugh, 'till echo replies 
 Thro' wind-waving trees, that my footsteps bestrew 
 
 With ripe, rosy fruit, I am sure I don't prize ! 
 
 So, why don't the lads come robbing ? 
 
 I'd watch from my window, the fruit-laden trees ; 
 
 Boys and girls who might come, and all that they 
 took ; 
 The children might all have as much as they please, 
 
 And go unrebuked by a word or a look. 
 But if that fair youth who oft peeps down the glade, 
 
 Should venture to come, and to take only one ? 
 I'd stop him, and when I had heard what he said, 
 
 I'd look very cross at the wrong he had done. 
 
 So, why don't the lads come robbing?
 
 102 
 
 Of course I'd forgive him, with free willing heart ; 
 
 As rambling the orchards and long filbert-grove 
 I'd help him to more, — ere I let him depart 
 
 He'd tell me the news ; and perhaps speak of love ! 
 I'd shew him the near, and best paths thro' this way, 
 
 And tho' the ripe fruit, by bleak Winter was 
 shorn 
 When meeting, he'd always have something to say, 
 
 And then I am sure, I should not feel forlorn. 
 
 So, why don't that lad come robbing ? 
 
 RUSTIC DITTY. 
 
 I recollect that ' Harvest-home,' 
 
 I walked and talk?d with Sally dear ; 
 
 As thro' the fields, to Church both roam 
 To offer up the ' Harvest-prayer.' 
 
 " Come Sally ! " said I, on that morn, 
 
 " When shall we two be asked in Church ? ' : 
 
 "This narrow pathway thro' the corn " 
 
 She said — " leads straight up to the Porch." 
 
 " I'll race -you there ! let win, who may, — 
 She darted 'long the track at once, 
 
 " Whoever's first, shall name the day ! 
 
 If you're last ? I'll call you daft and dunce."
 
 103 
 
 The path's but wide enough for one ; 
 
 To pass, 1 dashed into the wheat, 
 And tried thro' standing corn to run ; 
 
 Face-lashed, with straw clung round my feet. 
 
 Floundering — hatless — with arms straw-bound ; 
 
 Now up, now down, then on knees panting ; 
 Not worshipping the very ground 
 
 She trod, nor swearing — only ranting. 
 
 She's first to reach the church-gate, laughing 
 
 At the scarecrow that I looked ; 
 I leaped the wall, while she stood chaffing ; 
 
 She climbed the gate, and there got hooked. 
 
 " Oh Georgy dear ! my dress unhook 
 Never mind the Porch," she cried, 
 
 " Fve lost the race ! Some one may look ! 
 Pray come ! " — But I, her patience tried. 
 
 And made her give a score of kisses, 
 Before from gate she was released ; 
 
 Besides, had promised all my wishes, 
 That happy day of ' Harvest-feast.'
 
 104 
 
 RUSTIC DITTY. 
 
 When Winter's armour clad the stream, 
 
 And muffled nature 'up in snow ; 
 More warmly love from fond eyes beam 
 
 Of Polly who would skating go. 
 Along the frozen pool we race, 
 
 And circles, in and out, we try ; 
 I ask, if she her name can trace ? 
 
 And read pre-nuptial forgery. 
 
 My name was scrolled, but not her own ; 
 
 The hint's so plain, I scarce need more, 
 But ask her why no stop is shewn ? 
 
 And skate out Polly's name, before ; 
 I then got such a thumping fall ; 
 
 She said, "your full stop's in wrong place ; *' 
 And laughed and grieved, but that's not all, 
 
 Imparted by her glowing face. 
 
 Love gives a zest to many a joke ! — 
 
 Quite heedless of the danger near, 
 'Till sinking 'neath the ice that broke, 
 
 She cried, — " Oh ! save me ! Charley, dear!" 
 I plunge beneath, with lightning spring, 
 
 And safe to shore, my Polly bear 
 And whispered — " All you want's a wring" 
 
 She answered, " Yes ! " with kiss, and tear.
 
 105 
 
 cn. 
 Now fun and frolic challenge gallantries, 
 
 From lad and lass in ring of circling hands ; 
 One flings her 'kerchief to a lad, then flies, — 
 
 Pursuit and capture, the envied kiss commands. 
 
 cm. 
 Brave Sahgan, who had often fought and bled, 
 
 And turned the tide of battle for the free ; 
 Entranced the youth, by what he sang and said, 
 
 Defiant themes, and daring chivalry. 
 
 A GIPSY SONG. 
 
 Who, owns the world ? its offspring asks ! 
 Not they who do the ordered tasks 
 
 Of self -installed authority. 
 Who rules the world ? the outcast cries ! 
 Why ; they who own it as a prize ! 
 
 Although but a minority. 
 
 How fares the world in every age ? 
 
 Read history's dark and blood-stained page, 
 
 And blush to own the damning fact ! 
 Men's wrong to men, who've served them well, 
 Out-shames crimes charged 'gainst fabled hell. 
 Base cowards ! 'gainst God's truth to act !
 
 106 
 
 Why is it so ? 'Tis plainly shewn — 
 
 The land ! This world ! On which man's grown, 
 
 Is stolen by exclusive might ! 
 And bought and sold, like common chattel, 
 And men driven off, as if mere cattle, 
 
 To toil and die, their only right ! 
 
 If land were free for every man ? 
 And labour's duty,- — Rights began ! 
 
 And toil, not trapped for others' gain. 
 This world would beam with joy and health, 
 And gentle toil, yield ample wealth, 
 
 For honest zeal, and humble pain. 
 
 civ. 
 Now gazing on his child, by Lodore's side, 
 
 His voice betook a sad and plaintive strain, 
 In tone and feeling, words and glance implied, 
 
 He fain would win her to his breast again. 
 
 THE CHIEFTAIN'S PRAYER. 
 
 All hushed, the tumult of the battle past ! 
 
 My wounded steed now falters, sinks, and dies ! 
 My failing strength, can scarce this shock outlast, 
 
 But future hopes, make new-born vigour rise.
 
 107 
 
 The night-beams chill, as pathless wilds I roam ! 
 
 My wasting blood, yet tracks my devious way, 
 'Till chance yields shelter in a cottage-home : 
 
 Tho' it's death to aid me ! — gold will not betray ! 
 
 How shall 1 tell of health and hopes repaired ? 
 
 How breathe the memory of an angel's care ? 
 That soothed, and cheered, and watched, and peril 
 dared ! 
 
 The chieftain's soul still shrines thee in his prayer. 
 
 Those pure mild eyes beam thro' the crystal tear, 
 That lily cheek reveals the parting day ; 
 
 My anguished heart denies words meant to cheer, 
 I snatch one fond embrace ! — and then away! 
 
 The scene soon changes ; Triumph, crowns my cause, 
 As laurelled victor, and a welcome guest, 
 
 'Midst grand palatial halls, I sigh and pause, 
 To learn the limit, worth ambition's quest ? 
 
 Now regal beauty holds my thoughts in thrall, 
 With dark eyes flashing ardour from the heart, 
 
 But queenly grace, and pomp, — vain trifles all ! 
 To duty yield ; we smile farewell, and part. 
 
 'Midst glory's triumph ; round the mirth-stirred bowl, 
 In vain I strive, my wayward thoughts to cheer ; 
 
 Far nobler aims, I seek to pulse the soul! 
 
 And wish the angel of that cottage-home were near.
 
 108 
 
 cv. 
 Blind Carl, whose face beamed forth his latent mind 
 
 That indexed lore profound ; grand records trace 
 Within alembic of his brain, there pre-refined 
 
 By thoughts of beauty, wreathed with classic grace. 
 
 cvi. 
 
 The minstrel's theme illumes a classic story, 
 
 A scholar's treasured lore — hope, blent with dreams, 
 
 The attributes of man, linked to God's glory ; 
 
 All-hallowing that which is, by that which seems. 
 
 A MYTH. 
 
 Ere Ammon's sons, the heaven's portents scan ; 
 Or Indra rears her saviour gods from man ; 
 Or torrid zones, oblique the frigid spheres ; 
 Or volcaic fires give breath to Delphic seers, 
 
 Zelia, the beautiful ! proclaimed the Pure ! 
 By gods, with life-love's essence held secure, 
 But not from mortals, who with longings came 
 To bask in beauty's life and virtue's fame. 
 
 The base, the lewd, all deemed her radiant smile, 
 Was wreathed for them, but her pure heart the while 
 Shrank from the glare of each coarse ardent gaze, 
 Which fanned voluptuous heat to fiercer blaze.
 
 109 
 
 " Ye gods ! in pity, some mantle let me wear, 
 Unconscious screen, when passion draweth near !" 
 She asked, and felt the warm blood tingling rush 
 Into her cheeks. The screen was virtue's blush ! 
 
 Alas ! This mantle showed with glowing force, 
 That hallowed virtue thrilled its gentle course 
 Beneath the roseate blush that Zelia wore — 
 More bold was passion's throng than e'er before. 
 
 A second wish to heaven arose on high 
 From Zelia's soul. " Oh ! may I not now die ? 
 Or 'scape such rabid passions' fierce advance, 
 With life, by looks made hateful at love's glance !" 
 
 The gods must yield when virtue claims the boon, 
 But pausing ere they granted all so soon, 
 With warning that her wish had changed her state, 
 She now was mortal, with a mortal's fate! 
 
 Whene'er fierce passion's gaze approached her side, 
 Her fading beauty lewdness doth deride. 
 Begrimed and seared by toil her visage looked ; 
 Toil-warped her hands, her lovely form all crooked. 
 
 What charm had life for her ? so lonesome, sad ! 
 Thus shunned by good, as well as scorned by bad ; 
 She longed for pity, when love in dire dismay 
 Her changed looks mocked, and ever fled away.
 
 110 
 
 " I've mortal's nature now," she feebly cried, 
 " I know no "prayer of mine can fate betide ; 
 A mortal's hallowed love for me, might tell 
 The gods, my pangs of horror 'neath this spell." 
 
 Her eyes now ever saw a noble form 
 
 Approach her own, 'midst sunlight or night's storm. 
 
 So oft, so close, yet he was unappalled, 
 
 By ugliness that looked like sin forestalled. 
 
 Amazed ! she cried, " Art thou impassioned death ! 
 To haunt my side, and thus drink in my breath ?" 
 " 'Tis Delcos loves thee, Zella ! Delcos loves !" 
 'Neath Zelia's changeful mask, soft passion moves. 
 
 — " To a poor earthworm toiling here to die, 
 Say, Delcos, is't love, or sinful mockery ?" — 
 " Zelia forbear 1 to spurn such love as mine ! 
 Gods lent the mask, but left thy breath my shrine. 
 
 Pure as when first it fanned the quivering blush, 
 At passion thou so vainly strove to crush." — 
 " I yield!" She wept, joyed, trembling in his arms ; 
 The gods gave Delcos, Zelia, again with all her 
 charms.
 
 Ill 
 
 CVII. 
 
 Lodore now whispered,—" Spare those bright illusions, 
 Thy scholar's memory of oracles long dead. 
 
 Forego Ciceronian transfusions ! 
 
 Our modern role need not be classic-bred. 
 
 cviii. 
 "'If school-taught classics, be thy theme forbear ! 
 
 To make Prometheus, or Ixion, 
 Sisyphus, or us, their pains to bear 
 
 In talk, or Procrustes' bed to lie on. 
 
 cix. 
 a In old Egyptian matrices of fact, 
 
 And cycling decades, Greek fiction findeth force ; 
 Be-godding attributes with grace to act, 
 
 While festooned cobwebs hide their grandeur's source. 
 
 ex. 
 " Shun modern scribes' too oft allusive scrip ; — 
 
 Of Plutarch's truths, or iEschylean dreams ! 
 Such purloined glory, honest truth doth strip 
 
 From pedant genius, leaving unplumed themes. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 " Pegasean flights ! such rocking-horse rhymes shew it 
 But miraged on Parnassus, whose steep height, 
 
 Is raised by dust, from foot-falls of each poet, 
 
 As leaving Earth's dim track, for Heavenward flight. "
 
 112 
 
 cxn. 
 These master-minds thus met, must talk perforce 
 
 Of politics, of each state's vital range, 
 Which guides mankind in its due ethic course, 
 
 Thro' mental powers, working material change. 
 
 cxni. 
 
 Britain, they knew ; but more of Lodore sought, — 
 The hidden thoughts of masses, Unwashed! called, — 
 
 Destructives ! Improvident ! Dregs ! Untaught ! 
 
 Begot by wealth, which, by their growth's appalled. 
 
 cxiv. 
 
 Who build great cities, yet no homes can boast ; 
 
 Make docks, and railways, yet they hold no shares ; 
 Wring wealth from mines ; Build ships to guard their 
 coasts, 
 Till land, tend herds, — whose touch, not taste is 
 theirs. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 Then each essayed some marked and telling songs, 
 And highway lyrics ; such rough rhymes convey 
 
 Their ready thoughts, to contrast rights and wrongs, — 
 Of views scarce printed, 'till they're found to pay.
 
 . 113 
 
 A JOSKIN'S GRUMBLE. 
 I's Joskin ! my old maaster's man, 
 
 And he bean't a bad sort of a master ; 
 Tho' I work as faast as I can ; 
 
 He tells I, how I must work faaster. 
 
 1 walk thirteen moiles over clods, 
 To plough up an acre of ground ; 
 
 And ditch three feet deep, twenty rods, 
 
 For foive shillings ; no beer nor tools found. 
 
 Wood-cutting's three shillings a ' ringe ! ' 
 Tying faggots, five pence the score ! — 
 
 So long as we poor folks do cringe, 
 I'm darned if we'll ever get more ! 
 
 One third of my waage goes for rent ; 
 
 On what's left, those foine folks would die ! 
 Who say ; we be a 'Improvident' ! — 
 
 That word bea enough to choke 1 ! 
 
 If I spent all my earnings on grub ; 
 
 For each, 'twould be penny a meaal ! — 
 Let maasters, one week try the rub, 
 
 And see if they wouldn't soon squeaal ! 
 
 If outsoide-folk doan't interfere ; 
 
 From bad, we shall go on to worse ! 
 For Paarsons, and Landlords doan't care, 
 
 If our lives be nought worth a curse !
 
 114 
 
 Maaster calls I a ' gawk ' ! and a ' lout ' ! 
 
 And darns ; and he argyfies so ! 
 And axes, — What bea I talking 'bout ? 
 
 When I says, — " Money makes the mare go ! 
 
 I heard he say so — market day, 
 And told he, I'd loike be a mare ; 
 
 I'd gee-up, for a little more pay, 
 
 And get meaat more nor twoice in a year ! 
 
 He said, I'd get proud-loike and hoigh ; 
 
 And too gran' for my mud and straaw cot ; 
 I axed he to let I a stoiy ? — 
 
 Better housen nor what I had got. 
 
 'Twould keep the rain out of our beds, 
 And the snow-drift from under the door, 
 
 And the drarts away from our heads ; — 
 With aasphalte, not mud, for the floor. 
 
 'Twould saave I, a walk of eight moiles ; 
 
 I'd then see my youngsters at plaay; 
 And moi woife, who once was all smoiles ; 
 
 I could look at in broad loight of daay. 
 
 The smoke fills our plaace loike a fog ! 
 
 And the woind, the rushloight blows out ! 
 Such hoames bean't fit for a dog ! 
 
 But of such loike, the Paarson doan't spout !
 
 115 
 
 He telk I a tale o' the sparrows, 
 
 That the Lord feeds out of his hand ! — - 
 
 The varmints, they follow the harrows, 
 And steaal what they get from the land. 
 
 Maaster says, I's disgraace to my grub ! 
 
 Moi boys' rags for scare-crows, bea dear ! 
 That they steaal from the swill in the tub, 
 
 And ditch-water's better nor beer. 
 
 Once or twoice, I've snatched from the paail, 
 The milk, and proime bits, that float in ; 
 
 If maaster knew, he'd send I to jail ! 
 And Paarson call I thief ! for moi sin. 
 
 Moi girl, has felt justice's wraath ! 
 
 They sent she to jail for a week, 
 For picking sere-wood off the paath, — 
 
 Her character's gone ! ' so to speak. 
 
 'Cause Susan and 1 had got wed, 
 
 We were all turned out in the streeat, 
 
 By a great ruling Lord, who had said — 
 
 Noa pauper-warrens he'd have on his 'steate ! 
 
 Hadn't been for a lady, — I b'leave, 
 
 (They whisper, that she was the Queen ! ) 
 
 More'n one would have gone to the graave 
 That winter, the hardest we've seen.
 
 116 
 
 When maaster for wheat got top-proice ! 
 
 Says he — " Profit speeds the plough ;" boiy ! 
 With profits, I said — let pay roise ; 
 
 Dang moi buttons ! you'll see how I'll troiy. 
 
 And make the maares' team frisk along ; 
 
 For hid under moi raags, is the spring 
 That quickens the plough, spaade, and prong,- — 
 
 'Tis good grub, good waages would bring. 
 
 Because I thus happened to speaak ; — 
 
 " You must proime, before you can pump ! " 
 
 He called I a logical sneeak ! 
 
 And made I move off with a jump. 
 
 Moi kinsfolk once farmed this same land, 
 'Till toime an ' election ' came 'bout ; 
 
 When lawyers, and great-house-folks planned, 
 Moi kinsfolk should all be turned out. 
 
 On the moor, — I can call back the daay ; 
 
 We kept geese, and donkey and caart ; 
 But they took it for gleabe-land awaay ; 
 
 Jail'd father for toithes, — broke his heart ! 
 
 1 never could well understand 
 
 Why a land-thief, warn't called a thief ; — 
 ' Encroachment's' the foine word they've planned, 
 
 But it doan't change the poor man's belief.
 
 117 
 
 Yet they say that we want to divoide ; 
 
 And would share things again in a week — 
 Its a Ioi of those paapers ! — besoide, 
 
 Who such stuff, has yeard our chaps speaak ? 
 
 We can't help what people may saay ; 
 
 But folks can, the muck they beleave ; — 
 If edication's half worth its paay ? 
 
 The truth, from the lois, they might seave. 
 
 We know maasters divoide what we yearn ; 
 
 We working from early to laate ; 
 And I often foind it moi turn, 
 
 To have a small share on moi plaate. 
 
 It makes the blood boil in moi veins ! 
 
 Tho' I darn't tell moi old maaster so, 
 " For hard work to feed idle gaains ! " 
 
 Whoile woife and lads on ' 6hort-commons ' go. 
 
 I've yeard tell of an old English Lord, 
 
 When axed of his land, to show ' deeads ?' 
 Waaved on hoigh an old blood-rusted sword — 
 " That won it ! would hold it, if neeads ! " 
 
 If I got a sword ; would't bea roight ? 
 
 'Gainst parliament theaves, who so planned, 
 And Paarsons, and Landlords, to foight, 
 
 And get baack a sloice of the Land ?
 
 118 
 
 When England has battles to foight, 
 Or slaughtering glory, — be won ; 
 
 Proud foes have to bow to our moight ; 
 None e'er has to say twoice, — Come on ! 
 
 Now slaavery's a thing of the paast ! 
 
 And serfdom exists nevermore ! 
 Why let the world's pity be caast 
 On England's farm laboring poor ? 
 
 A SATIRE. 
 
 In old worn-out corrupted states, 
 'Tis money makes the man, 
 
 And brands the mind with special rates, 
 Whereby to guage life's plan. 
 
 A sixpence, tho' so very thin, 
 
 And sovereign, thin also ; 
 Exalts a man, — condones a sin, 
 
 Alike for weal or woe. 
 
 But place the sovereign on its rim, 
 
 Mount on it as a wheel — 
 So high, so grand, along we skim, 
 
 And independence feel.
 
 119 
 
 On one, man's limped, or two, has rolled, 
 
 Ah ! Perhaps they spin away, 
 And teach that worth's no match for gold ; 
 
 And hard is native clay. 
 
 But human claws, and devil's thrall, 
 
 Will fix them in a row ; 
 Skate-wise, man mounts, — 'Tis Capital ! 
 
 With Labor's gain to go ! 
 
 But higher yet, vain beings soar 
 
 On costless paper notes ; 
 With unchecked issue, skimming o'er 
 
 Rights, wrongs, and people's votes. 
 
 Or changes ring, for coffers crammed — 
 Men's homes, where life is spent ; 
 
 Or factories, where toil is dammed, 
 And human souls are Rent. 
 
 But death's sharp scythe rips up these sails ! 
 
 The worm, by instinct comes ! 
 Finds feast, where human reason fails 
 
 To win for life its crumbs. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 With money, plentiful for trade ; 
 
 A simple transfer medium ! — 
 Cheap as weights and measures made ; 
 
 'Twould end this sin's Te Deum !
 
 120 
 
 A HIGHWAY LYRIC. 
 On ! On ! to work ! — the barren lands ; 
 
 With crops and honor theirs ! 
 Old England's boast ; its noblest bands, 
 
 Are waste-land Volunteers ! 
 
 A half a million men or more, 
 
 With willing hands for toil ; 
 Shall change the waste-land, heath, and moor, 
 
 Into productive soil. 
 
 Acres, by the million round, 
 
 Of marsh, wood, copse, and glen ; 
 
 Where now but game, and vermin's found ; 
 Shall yield a Harvest then. 
 
 Chorus* — On ! On ! to work ! &c, 
 
 A million pence, in hundred days — 
 Four hundred thousand pounds ! 
 
 This spent, when saved from worthless ways, 
 Would clear and stock the ground. 
 
 The rental, would yield pounds for pence, 
 
 From land to state for ever ! 
 Saving rates, and taxes, — whence, 
 
 No change of law should sever. 
 
 Chorus — On ! On ! To work ! &c.
 
 121 
 
 • MANDATIVE POEM. 
 
 England ! Cheer ! From slumber rise ! 
 England ! ere thy spirit dies ! 
 Rouse ye in your manhood's strength ! 
 Rouse thee thro' thy land's full length ! 
 • Freedom ! here thy home should be ! 
 Freedom ! — not class rivalry ! 
 Peoples ! claim their own, — the earth ! 
 Peoples ! hail thy coming .birth ! 
 Dare how to learn the worth of life ! 
 Dare now to spurn the crime so rife ! 
 Stamp out vile priestcraft from the land ! 
 Stamp usury, with vice's brand ! 
 Misery springs from class-planned Jaws ! 
 Misery clings to its vile cause ! 
 Faction's trade doth foster strife ! 
 Factions fade 'neath sterling life ! 
 The world doth teem with boundless wealth ! 
 The world would beam with joy and health ! 
 With Land ! to man, the gift of God ! 
 With Land ! and fruits, for those who plod ! 
 A press ! truth's typic paladium ! 
 A press ! — not paper-hanging ^scum ! 
 JusticeJ free, and prompt in acts ! 
 Justice ! not a sordid tax !
 
 122 
 
 Money ! free, worth's just measure ! 
 
 Money ! not a vice-gorged treasure ! 
 
 Home ! a sacred untaxed spot ! 
 
 Home ! each man's and woman's lot! 
 
 Labour's claim, duties test ! 
 
 Labour's gain, toil's sure rest ! 
 Duties potent — wrong's redress ! 
 Duties earnest, — rights express ! 
 Nations freed from want and vice ! 
 Nation's meed,— a paradise ! 
 Honor feeds the flame of truth ! 
 Honor leads on England's youth ! 
 Triumphant, all who form the van ! 
 Triumphant, Nature ! Mind ! and Man ! 
 
 cxvi. 
 Thus song, feast, frolic, all in turn enhance 
 
 The joy which seems to spring with newer zest, 
 From interludes of sport, with song and dance, 
 
 As if to make mirth's change, subserve for rest. 
 
 cxvu. 
 The entrance of two strangers, now took place ; 
 
 And from the passing topics drew all eyes, 
 That marked their dress and manners out of place, 
 
 And their obsequious apologies.
 
 123 
 
 cxvin. 
 The foremost offered gold to deck some sport ; 
 
 He'd scarcely spoken, ere the gipsy's daughter 
 Shrank close to Lodore's side, whose searching eyes 
 Read in the Chieftain's glance, foreboding slaughter. 
 
 cxix. 
 Leo perceived at once, how matters stood ; 
 
 The craven taunter of the previous eve, 
 Was Isoline's insulter. In fierce mood 
 
 Exclaimed, — "Come follow!" as he grasped his 
 sleeve. 
 
 cxx. 
 " Have care my friend," said Sahgan — "how you touch 
 
 Vile things like those, with clean soft hand ! 
 As roughly as the very dirt you clutch, 
 
 Let be your grasp, that you may crush or brand !" 
 
 cxxi. 
 With sign to Lodore, Sahgan led the way ; 
 
 These gallants full of protests followed on, 
 Beyond the village p'rhaps a mile away 
 
 They stopped, and now assumed defiant tone, 
 cxxn. 
 One asked ; what he had done to mar their sport ? 
 
 But if a quarrel they would on him fasten, 
 He'd meet them all in any open court 
 
 Of Justice ! but now would onward hasten.
 
 124 
 
 cxxni. 
 And teach them he was Prince of foreign lands ! 
 
 With sword's point, Leo barred his hurried flight, 
 
 And made his trembling fellow "lind his hands 
 
 Behind his back, and bandage up his sight. 
 
 cxxiv. 
 The Prince a very coward then became ; 
 
 Finding that threats and bribes would not prevail ; 
 
 He asked — His crimes? for what was he to blame ? 
 
 And tried masonic signs — of no avail. 
 
 cxxv. 
 To where he lay, Sahgan stepped up and spoke, 
 
 " One act to me tells all your course of crime ! 
 
 No power or craft shall my resolve revoke ; 
 
 My mark shall cling to thee for thy life's time. 
 
 cxxvi. 
 
 " Waste not your breath ! reform ! and threaten less ! 
 
 Enough !" — with keen knife point and sudden turn 
 of hand ; 
 Upon his brow, he graved the letter ' S,' 
 And made indelible with powder brand. 
 
 cxxvu. 
 " The full word I'll carve out, when next we meet — 
 
 * S ! ' Scoundrel Prince ! Go ! Now, I haven't time." 
 
 He slipped his bandage ; stood him on his feet 
 
 To flee, and bear thro' life his brand of crirne.
 
 125 
 
 CXXV1II. 
 
 On their return, Lilla occasion found, 
 
 To place before their friends the new found box ; 
 'Twas keyless, hingeless, but securely bound, 
 
 With rivet strengthened bronze, and triple locks. 
 
 cxxix. 
 Each failed to open, until Sahgan tried, 
 
 And shewed each lockplate, spring-bolts these con- 
 cealed ; 
 The end drew out, as telescopic slide ; 
 
 In-case from out, and its contents revealed. 
 
 cxxx. 
 
 The sight displayed, fixed all but Sahgan's gaze, — 
 
 Two regal crowns. Regalia of a State. 
 Amidst the corruscations' dazzling blaze 
 Of stars, gems, orders, all of recent date. 
 
 cxxxi. 
 He bit by bit, the gorgeous gear drew forth, 
 
 As well as priestly relics, — rag, wood, and bone, 
 
 Each labelled with a warning of their worth, 
 
 To save mankind, or to uphold a throne. 
 
 cxxxn. 
 He crushed the relics 'neath his iron heel 
 
 As muttering — " Rotten ! Lying rubbish, all ! 
 
 More than these bauble sceptres, or war's steel, 
 
 Thou'st helped mankind, and thrones, andstates to fall !
 
 126 
 
 cxxxrn 
 " The free, scarce know the force of this fell curse ! 
 
 'Tis superstition blights the God in man 1 
 But now the value of these gems may nurse 
 
 Freedom ! so long the baubles of its ban. 
 
 cxxxiv. 
 " These gems are crystalled orphans' tears 
 
 For bread ! or sweat from verge of labor's grave ! 
 The gold, gew-gaw 1 to deck all nations' 1 biers ! 
 
 Decoy for genius ! — largesse for the slarve ! " 
 
 cxxxv. 
 In frolic, Lilla decked out Isoline, 
 
 With crown on head, and sceptre in her hand ; 
 With girdle, bracelets, stars, — a fairy queen ! 
 
 In gleeful sport, she asked — a Queen's command ? 
 
 cxxxvi. 
 " I wish that sceptre, gave thee ample power, 
 
 To issue mandates that should be so just, 
 To make one law for hovel or for tower ; 
 
 And truth, exalt into a nation's trust. 
 
 cxxxvu. 
 " That want, should invite have, to tell its woe, 
 
 And all should bide the test framed for its cure, 
 Howe'er it scourged the wealthy or the low ; 
 
 With vice out-crushed, and virtue held secure."
 
 127 
 
 CXXXVIII. 
 
 Her eyes out-shine the gems her brow upheld; 
 
 Her coarse serge dress ablaze with jewels rari ; 
 Her slender sunburnt neck with laughter swelled, 
 
 As she mock-mandates gave to each one there. 
 
 cxxxix. 
 " Let time decide, and fate direct with force ! 
 
 Each act of human will, take certain mould ; 
 From hope, which seems to guide its fore-gone course, 
 
 And shew that„destiny by man's controlled, 
 
 CXL. 
 
 " Brave Leonardo! On ! and freedom win ! 
 
 And fan a blush of health upon the brow 
 Of slaves ! who know not joy, from sloth or sin j 
 
 — Thy triumph will win Lilla's smile I trow. 
 
 ex LI. 
 " And she shall watch the heavens aglow from far, 
 
 And note the gleam of glory thy course wakes ; 
 And all shall light their souls from thy bright star, 
 
 Who from thy genius, super-lustre takes. 
 
 CXLIl. 
 
 " Lodore ! Work out, what thy bold genius planned, 
 — Two sister states, now sundered by the sea ; 
 
 With sea-walls— cities — drainage, link each land 
 The area — Island-studded lakes shall be.
 
 128 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 " On ! quickly find, and mould thy mental quest ; 
 
 A gipsy-maid awaits thy magic power, 
 To thrill a heaven of bliss within her breast ! — 
 
 She counts as years, each tardy waning hour. 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 " And Carl, more keen of sense, from vision lost ; 
 
 Watch o'er my father, wheresoe'er he roam ! 
 Thou know'st 'midst wanderings and tempest tost ; 
 
 My smile's the only joy-guide to his home." 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 Then, as a child she sidled on his knee, 
 
 And laid her jewelled brow upon his breast, 
 
 To whisper words and smile so lovingly, 
 Like plumaged warbler in its natal nest. 
 
 CXLVl. 
 
 A tear bedimmed grim Sahgan's manly eye, 
 As gazing on this tendril of his heart ; 
 
 He clasped her closer, and said with heavy sigh — 
 " These gems that cling to thee, may cleave apart ! 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 " From memory's early dawn, thou'st nestled so 
 To sleep, and waking up, hast nestled still, — 
 
 A mother's care thou never wished to know ; 
 The tribes, all courted thy wild wayward will.
 
 129 
 
 CXLVIII. 
 
 " I owe to you," said Sahgan, — " fullest truth, 
 
 In fewest words in which I can relate, 
 The record of thy infancy and youth ; 
 
 That friends may judge, if I've earned love or hate ! 
 
 CXLIX. 
 
 " As thou wilt soon in thy ripe womanhood, 
 From my stern breast, to one more loving leap ; 
 
 To yield a love, all perils hath withstood, 
 And glorify a passion, pure and deep — " 
 
 CL. 
 
 He quelled emotions struggling in his breast, 
 
 Abruptly asking, — " If those gems she'd donned 
 
 Were hers ? and she a throne and power possessed ? 
 Would not her gipsy father be disowned ? " 
 
 CLI. 
 
 She clapped her jewelled hands in happy mirth ; 
 
 And laughing said — " If they thought stones and metal 
 Were talismans to qualify love's birth, 
 
 She'd claimit from the hearth, and bright campkettle ! " 
 
 cm. 
 " And Lodore too, with his stern struggling fate, — 
 
 'Midst all the glamour of a court and throne, 
 Chicane, intrigue, and soulless pomp of state — 
 
 Would she not this fond sudden love disown ?"
 
 130 
 
 CLUI. 
 
 She becked him to her side ; her arms entwine 
 His neck, a moment, with proud loving grace ; 
 
 "Oh! were I queen!" she said — "thy heart's the 
 shrine 
 I'd bow to, and would win its holiest place. 
 
 CLIV. 
 
 " Somehow this scene, as if 't had been before ; 
 
 Revives the self-same thoughts with vivid force, 
 From some past current in my memory's store, 
 As passing scenes reveal their normal source. 
 
 CLV. 
 
 " Perhaps, 'tis leaning on thy breast, as I do now, 
 To hear thy voice, and watch thy blazing eyes, 
 
 And feel warm kisses dropping on my brow, 
 Recalls the dawning of my glad surprise — 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 " When thou would' st come, and cosset me with joy, 
 And soothe my wayward mood with thrilling song, 
 
 And let me have thy dagger for a toy : 
 
 Whilst stalwart figures round about would throng, 
 
 CLVII. 
 
 " And wait to clasp me in their strong bronzed hands, — 
 Thy words I knew not, yet they seemed to burn, 
 
 Their import on each heart, with stern commands, 
 Of gentle care for me, 'till thy return.
 
 131 
 
 CLV1II. 
 
 " These trinkets take me back to childhood's days, 
 When in gay coloured dress, 1 fancied cost 
 
 So much, and felt so proud to win some praise, 
 — 'Twas then I stayed away, 'till I was lost. 
 
 A CHILD'S STORY. 
 
 With girdle and bracelets, they decked me for sport ; 
 In proud wayward spirit, a playmate I sought ; 
 And wandered away from the tents of my tribe, 
 With basket for berries some playmates to bribe. 
 1 follow the bee, and the butterflies chase, 
 But their flight's in heaven — on earth, is my race ; 
 I rest by the lake, where the bright silver fish 
 Dart away from my hand, and my frolicsome wish ; 
 I beckon the swan ; it sails proudly away ; 
 Bright waves are their toys, mine are only of clay ! 
 I turn to the uplands, where rabbits so shy, 
 Peep out of their burrows 'till I have passed by. 
 The squirrel that nibbles his nut on the ground — 
 At my step, to the tree top, leaps up with a bound, 
 The spider climbs deftly, the web that he weaves, 
 The gay golden-beetle, creeps under the leaves ; 
 A lambkin skips to me, and sniffs at my feet, 
 But scampers away, when it hears the fond bleat 
 Of its mother that feeds and leads where it's warm— 
 I sigh for a mother to shield me from harm !
 
 132 
 
 The birds from their nests too, with ruffled wings start ; 
 I stifle the sobs, that out-leap from my heart ! 
 For all things there's bright love, throughout nature wild, 
 But none can be spared for the poor gipsy child ! 
 1 strawberries gather, and wearily weep, 
 When something above me, soon startles from sleep. 
 A wolf creeps towards me, as if it would play, 
 But the glare of its eyes affrights me away ! — 
 It springs back again, at the voices so near, 
 Of those who had sought me in sorrow and fear, 
 I knew one dear voice of all others above ; 
 'Tis father's ! that calls out my name with fond love. 
 He shouts out his gladness, and says, I am found ! 
 I offer my berries to all gathered round. 
 You kneel, as you take me, I ask — why your tear ? 
 You whisper — Hush, darling ! 'Tis the poor Gipsy's 
 prayer ! 
 
 CLIX. 
 
 " Say, was my mother brimmed with love like me ? 
 
 For all that's good, or could the mind elate ; 
 Impulsive ; full of ready sympathy 
 
 For woe ? For sin and vice — unsparing hate ? 
 
 CLX. 
 
 " For kind rebuke, or faintest trace of blame, 
 
 Thou'dst whisper — Mother watched me from afar ! 
 
 And would be grieved, if harm to me e'er came, 
 Or wrong, or guile, life's virtuous actions mar."
 
 133 
 
 CLXl. 
 
 "Those words," said Shagan, " L bring to mind a Hymn 
 Thy mother gloried in ; 'twas for a Prince : 
 
 So good, so noble, envy ne'er could dim 
 
 Unsullied fame, such, none has e'er won since. 
 
 CLXII. 
 
 " With fever-stroke, 'tvvixt life and death he lay ; 
 
 A nation grieved in sorrow as one man, 
 When prayer to heaven for life, — death, seemed to stay ; 
 
 Their joy, for health regained, to mania ran." 
 
 ANTHEM.* 
 
 A nation's prayer had reached high heaven ; 
 
 To it a Prince's life was given, — 
 
 The pleading moan, and suppliant hands, 
 
 Revealed the hopes from distant lands. 
 As anguish foils the fatal dart, 
 Joy's anthem swells each throbbing heart ; 
 Each claims new life, each seems to share, 
 And love, becomes a nation's prayer. 
 
 Let all proclaim the holy boon 1 
 That thrills the world with joy so soon ; 
 Oh ! may health's blessings be prolonged 
 'Midst glory, as if angel-tongued ! 
 
 * Music, Price 2/- Waud and Co., London, S.W.
 
 134 
 
 Bequital pure as hallowed love, 
 True as sunlight from above ; 
 Rebounds from out the grateful soul 
 Of him whom sacred prayer makes whole. 
 
 CLXIIl. 
 
 " But power wrought change upon this princely mind, 
 He turned from good to evil, and truth spurned ; 
 
 'Neath sin ! fraud ! superstition ! all combined. — 
 'Till pity lent the doubt, — his mind was turned. 
 
 CLXIV. 
 
 " That prince (now dead) became a tyrant king 
 Of distant realms, 'till revolution came, 
 
 As sure as coinage, press, and priests, will bring 
 To landless men, cursed with false glory's shame. 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 " He fired his palace. His order was obeyed ! 
 
 His only child a babe, he thought was safe 
 With nobles, but plunder was the part they played, 
 
 And in their greed, forgot the helpless waif. 
 
 CLXVI. 
 
 " I saved some perilled lives 'midst flames high piled ; 
 
 — Sought more, while blazing ruins overwhelm, 
 And stumbled o'er a cradle with a child, 
 
 And casket with regalia of the realm.
 
 135 
 
 CLXV1I. 
 
 " I hid the box, but cherished that poor girl 
 
 And tried to be a father to thee, my Child! 
 
 Dost shun me ? — No ! No ! Thy poor brain's awhirl ! " 
 — Speechless, she kissed his brow with impulse wild. 
 
 CLXVIII. 
 
 "As queen, just now you spoke, — as queen, may act ! " 
 Said Sahgan — " Truth claims avowal all expect, 
 
 You are the princess ! may be queen in fact ! 
 
 I'm childless now ! — my heart to joy is wrecked ! " 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 Slowly, as if awakening from a dream 
 
 Of bliss, to suddenness of utter woe ! 
 She gazed at all around, whose strange looks seem, 
 
 As if their joy sought pity to forego. 
 
 CLXX. 
 
 She stood aghast, as rooted to the grouud, 
 
 Slow murmuring — " His words were, loved but me, 
 
 Poor, humble, free ; — as princess tho' uncrowned, 
 I'm outcast from his love ! Oh ! can it be ? 
 
 CLXXI. 
 
 " Lodore ! thy look is strange ! It marks not love ! 
 
 Oh ! God ! that I should lose life's worth by frauds ; 
 — A love's devotion, sanctified above, 
 
 Is wrecked to me, amidst these mocking gauds."'
 
 136 
 
 CLXXH. 
 
 With anguished looks, as if a sudden craze 
 Convulsed her, as she clasped her father's hand ; 
 
 In Lodore's eyes she searched with piercing gaze, 
 And mute appeal, he scarce could understand. 
 
 CLX1II. 
 
 Her look of agony ! — Lodore surprised ! 
 
 — " You said, you loved me, as I was, unknown ! 
 Untitled ! A poor Gipsy Girl ! despised ! — 
 
 Now, regal outcast of a crime-stained throne ! 
 
 CLXXIV. 
 
 " Lodore ! that look again gleams true love now ! " 
 
 — As if a pent-up fury had out-burst ; 
 She tore the diadem from her flashing brow, 
 
 And hurled it from her as a thing accursed. 
 
 CLXXV. 
 
 Stars, bracelets, gems, were stamped beneath her feet ; 
 
 Excitedly exclaiming " I am free ! — " 
 With pity-seeking look, imploring, sweet ; 
 
 She swooned in death-trance clasping Lodore's knee. 
 
 CLXXVI. 
 
 And when again, her trembling eyelids moved, 
 She felt them kissed with gentle loving sips ; 
 
 And knew how truly for herself, was loved, — 
 A long pent cry of joy escaped her lips !
 
 137 
 
 CLXXVII. 
 
 "My Lodore ! now, I proudly feel I'm queen 
 Of thy true heart, as dowerless I stand." — 
 
 Her words were checked by sighs and smiles between, 
 His kisses pressed on brow, on lips, on hand, 
 
 CLXXVI1I. 
 
 " Dear Father ! a daughter for thy fond love pleads ! 
 
 Stay not the blissful flood of pure emotion ! 
 Call me your child, 'twill calm my heart that bleeds ! 
 
 Oh ! let me prove I owe thee life's devotion ! 
 
 CLXXIX. 
 
 " Thou'st lived for me ; let me live for your pleasure ; 
 
 I will not offer gems, now flung away ; 
 'Twould look as if I sought past love to measure ; 
 
 Italia's cause they'll serve, and may yet sway." 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 " Thou'rt nought to me, but my own gipsy still," 
 — WereLodore's words, that gave her life new stamp ; 
 
 " Thou'st shewn a power o'er self, with such good-will, 
 That's lacked by Kings, and Queens, who go on tramp. 
 
 CLXXXl. 
 
 " The past is dead ! we for the future live ! 
 
 Let joy and song, sway all with potent mirth ; 
 What glory thy fond p arent helped to give 
 
 To thee, despite thy simple chance of birth.
 
 138 
 
 CLXXXII. 
 
 *'The crucible of commerce, gems can solve 
 
 To guns, and powder, clothing, food, and cattle ; 
 
 The problems of the age they'll help resolve, 
 In yielding power ; the logic of the battle." 
 
 CLxxxrn. 
 For comfort to her agitated heart, 
 
 And sweet relief to love unstrung by grief — 
 
 To Lilla clinging, they from sports depart, 
 
 To find in calm repose a sure relief. 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 
 But soon again returned with happy eyes, 
 And glided 'mongst them like an angel blest. 
 
 " Now Carl shall judge, and I'll award a prize ; 
 Who'll tell,— "What we know least, yet like the best ?" 
 
 CLXXXV. 
 
 Said Lilla — " Leo will proclaim, 'tis Liberty ! 
 
 And polarize the current of each thought, 
 By his contemplative philosophy ; 
 
 Which more than his bright sword, hath wisdom 
 wrought." 
 
 CLXXXVI. 
 
 " Nay, Deck me not with praise, but pat my dog ! 
 
 He has tracked me 'midst the storm, o'er leagues of 
 ground, 
 Where reason would have failed, from warp or clog ; 
 
 Such instinct outstrips reason at a bound.
 
 139 
 
 CLXXXVIl. 
 
 " Our common sense is learning ready made, 
 And learning, gleanings sorted in the brain, 
 
 Their impress yielding Science, Art and Trade ; 
 To wait on want, or crawl in Fashion's train. 
 
 CLXXXVIII. 
 
 " The world's hard workers, wait not problems solved ; 
 
 But life in hand, solve right from wrong at once 1 
 The wise man's offspring's by A. B. C.'s involved, 
 
 At life's first start, the same for sage as dunce. 
 
 CLXXXIX. 
 
 " He, marks an epoch, who on scroll unfurled, 
 
 Dares grave new thoughts, or by his voice proclaim ; 
 
 He flings his mandates to a list'ning world, 
 That tribute pays, by faith, by time, by fame. 
 
 cxc 
 " Bold thoughts oft spring from vanity of sight ; 
 
 Or true, or false, glib utterance of tongue ; 
 How mighty, if we could be sure of right ! 
 
 How much we learn, on finding we are wrong ! 
 
 cxci. 
 " We formulate our facts from vision's ken, 
 
 As if much else beyond, could not well be ; 
 And gauge a universe, as of mere men, 
 
 And say — 'Tis so ! or not ! just as we see.
 
 140 
 
 CXCII. 
 
 " Because our sight can trace a gleam or gap 
 
 In space. The world elate, opes eyes and purse ; 
 
 P'rhaps writes Pleiadic centre, on a map, 
 And claims to supervise the universe. 
 
 CXCIII. 
 
 " We trace a mental track by sway of mind, 
 By mental essence, judge both life and death ; 
 
 When analyzed, we often plainly find 
 
 'Tis cunning ignorance, or disordered breath. 
 
 CXCIV. 
 
 " Of ' principles' — we modes of action teach ; 
 
 Of ' nature' — state of being seek to tell ; 
 They're but analogies within our reach, 
 
 And synthesis of terms we've learned to spell. 
 
 oxcv. 
 " ' Tho' science proves that water, level flows ; 
 
 It forms the curved globe of the ocean spheres ! 
 How contradiction in man's knowledge shews, 
 
 As vain as his own flowing globe shaped tears. 
 
 cxcvi. 
 " He says of water, 'tis liquid, solid, gas, 
 
 And vivid light ; of fire, he babbles claim, 
 'Tis fluid, solid, intangible in mass — 
 
 How impotently right each transient name !
 
 141 
 
 CXCVll. 
 
 " Sun's latent fire, aerial forces blend, 
 
 To pulp the tomb of living seed in soil ; 
 Of Heaven, man prays its floating floods to lend ; 
 
 Yet drains and screens the land with ceaseless toil, 
 cxcvm. 
 " Thus man grows instinct from long reason's reign, 
 
 And pays his pence to laugh at monkey tricks ; 
 While monkeys from tree tops, may some sense gain, 
 
 To watch how vanity, man's reason pricks. 
 
 cxcix. 
 " For after all, 'tis human senses mark, 
 
 Equations and analogies of power ; 
 And gauge off-hand by human instinct's spark, 
 
 An age of learning, tested in an hour. 
 
 cc. 
 " And science too, is circumscribed by chance, 
 
 Of what materials come to hand, and how ; 
 Without Coal, Iron, Loadstone, what advance 
 
 Would man have made ? To what do nations bow ? 
 
 cci. 
 
 " To all this toil-turned muck, from whence wealth's 
 grown ; 
 
 To these small bits of this earth's upper crust, — 
 
 Beneath, eight thousand thicknesses unknown ! 
 
 While science' grandest boasts, men take on trust.
 
 142 
 
 ecu. 
 " His gravitation, atoms centralize ; 
 
 Between two planet spheres, how express, 
 The boundary line that each doth neutralize ? 
 
 Solution waits in vain for human guess. 
 
 CCIII. 
 " Kinetics with inertia inter-blend; 
 
 Dynamics in some altered media shew, 
 We need som? new born sense to comprehend, 
 
 Grand principles, beyond what we now know. 
 
 cciv. 
 " His figures grow numberless in extent ; 
 
 His centres decentralized, as force serves, 
 His atoms divisible, find increment ; 
 
 Straight lines are ever waving into curves. 
 
 ccv. 
 " The child, at Science laughs, thro' window-pane ; 
 
 And Science wonders why not see as well 
 Thro' ice, or bubble film, so clear and plain — - 
 
 By crystals, pores, or waves, it seeks to tell. 
 
 ccvi. 
 " Antinomies that rule in nature, shew 
 
 Or hide profound unfathomable laws; 
 While men demonstrate from the points they know, 
 
 And theorize upon effect and cause.
 
 143 
 
 CCVII. 
 
 " For every purpose countless chances wait 
 Conceptive touch, to link the air and earth, — 
 
 Its Flora, Fauna, life, death, growdi, and state, 
 By protoplasms blending change, called birth. 
 
 ccvm. 
 " A world or atom, in its orbit's range, 
 
 And space's matrix, must some power relapse, 
 And serve the subtle purpose of some change, 
 
 'Midst myriad advents which man hails with — P'rhaps ! 
 
 ccix. 
 " Of world's controlled by centrifugal force, 
 
 Eevoking gravitation's hidden might ; 
 Guiding each planet speck's unerring course, 
 
 In time, which man tells off by day and night. 
 
 ccx. 
 " Mutation, integrates all form and space ! 
 
 No god is free from force ; its greater god ! 
 A thought, is action ! fact, a marking trace, 
 
 More sharp than thorn in heel of foot unshod. 
 
 CCXI. 
 
 " No mighty universal cause subsists, 
 
 But what's the sure effect of prior cause ; 
 
 Of all we know, there's more unknown exists, 
 To mock our fitful moments' self-applause.
 
 U4 
 
 CCXII. 
 
 " A million million worlds' time-wrought formation, 
 Growth, and annihilation, might but mark, 
 
 A passing gleam on vast unknown creation ; 
 
 Come! Gone ! for ever ! Trackless by light or dark. 
 
 CCXIII. 
 
 " A day ! 'Tis but one morn and eve of life ! 
 
 One day ; sum up of this world's human race ; 
 'Twill make an age of birth, death, love, and strife ; 
 
 All vortexed into nought, by time's winged pace. 
 
 ccxiv. 
 " Faith, is the balanced fiction of the soul ! 
 
 Force, is the grammar of world's potent sway ! 
 Douht, is the measure of the mind's control ! 
 
 Belief, the varying phase of life's survey ! 
 
 ccxv. 
 " Events, like seedlings, ripen to their prime ! 
 
 And yield a crop of action, change, and force ; 
 To feed decay, that fans the whirl of time, 
 
 'Midst powers varying with their normal source. 
 
 ccxvi. 
 " Love's creed, is noblest joy ! from which life's grown, 
 
 To sanctify as treasure, hope enjoyed ; 
 By gauge of thought sublimed on mind's high throne, 
 
 That moulds man's worth, by nature well employed.
 
 145 
 
 CCXVII. 
 
 In such bright glowing words, all, glory found ; 
 
 As in a flood of light so calmly shedding ; 
 Joy, truth, and hope, to every one around, 
 
 In grand effulgence o'er this gay scene spreading. 
 
 ccxvm. 
 Propitious seemed each hour that joys enwreathe, 
 
 And unmarred bliss around each soul doth cling ; 
 With keen perceptions of the truths that breathe, 
 
 In songs the pastor and his wife now sing. 
 
 CCXIX. 
 
 They sketched a lyric landscape of their loves, 
 In phono-tints of radiant words expressed ; 
 
 That shewed how life by love's devotion, proves 
 Hope clings thro' faith and age to final rest. 
 
 ccxx. 
 
 And then they join each voice in votive song, 
 And vivid pictures of their love portray ; 
 
 — Trace lover's foot-prints on time's sand, along, 
 'Till crowned by this, their Silver wedding-day. 
 
 THE SILVER WEDDING. 
 My Wife ! My Wife ! That sacred name, 
 
 Proclaims my every hope and pride ; 
 More truthful hast thou been than fame ; 
 
 More faithful than the world beside !
 
 146 
 
 When first we met, what dreams of bliss, 
 With thee to share my fame and love ; 
 
 The breath of heaven was in thy kiss ! 
 And joys of earth, for which 1 strove. 
 
 1 proudly cast aside with scorn, 
 
 The gloss of fashion, rank's false pride ; 
 To wed my queen ! tho' lowly born, 
 
 And have her ever by my side. 
 
 It was because thou lovedst me best ; 
 
 I prized thee most of all in life, 
 And dared to be supremely blest ; 
 
 My own pure, gentle, loving wife 1 
 
 As five-and-twenty summer days, 
 
 Our happy wedded years have flown ; 
 
 Thy joy-lit smiles and genial ways, 
 Have ever on my pathway shone. 
 
 This is our silver wedding day ! 
 
 I'll woo and win again, once more ; 
 With all around us bright and gay ; 
 
 We'll find we're lovers as of yore.
 
 147 
 
 CCXXI. 
 
 Leo links past and present in an Ode, 
 
 As tribute song, to Birth, and Wedding-time, 
 
 That youth's day-dream, and age's mem'ry shewed ; 
 'Midst cannons' boom, and belfries' peal and chime. 
 
 ANNIVERSARY ODE. 
 All time, givea natal days ! — We heed them not ! 
 
 But mark three spans ; — A smile, a sigh, a tear ; 
 Until a flash of memory half forgot, 
 
 Recalls the thought ; — Oar natal day is here ! 
 
 In looking back at ever-fading days, 
 
 And onward-rolling moments as they come, 
 
 When come, they're gone ! awhile a thousand rays 
 Illume our path with glory as we roam. 
 
 To those, to whom we've joys and griefs revealed; 
 
 And hope's bright dreams of bliss, with love por- 
 trayed ; — 
 To them, we feel our life is not blank-sealed ; 
 
 Tho' absent, in their thoughts we are arrayed. 
 
 So life we'll enjoy, 
 
 Without care's alloy, 
 And reck not the cost of each minute, 
 
 With love, as sure prize ; 
 
 And faith that ne'er dies ; 
 By virtue's diploma, we'll win it,
 
 148 
 
 We'll weave the bright spell 
 
 Of fancies that tell, 
 That Time, and this World, were made for us ; 
 
 We'll ring the gay laugh, — 
 
 The wine-cup we'll quaff, 
 And join in each song's happy chorus. 
 
 Here's absent ! and loved ! 
 
 Whom honor has proved. 
 Here's to those, whom we owe life's first 
 blessing ! 
 
 From infancy's dawn 
 
 To this natal morn, 
 Our duty, repays each caressing. 
 
 Tho' impulse for right, may leave some dark trace, 
 
 And shade a pure faith by force of its power ; 
 ¥et truth in bright beauty, will 'ere long efface, 
 
 The moment of gloom, that tracks such brief hour. 
 If wisdom keeps pace, with life's onward race, 
 
 And it guides us aright by its glory ? 
 Tho' grief graves its index with truth in our face, 
 
 It thus spares us repeating grief 's story. 
 
 'Midst time's cycling whirls, each year brings by turns, 
 Some joy to relieve, a grief it conceals ; 
 
 And shew by the good we may do ; it returns 
 Redoubled in worth to memory's appeals.
 
 149 
 
 CCXXII. 
 
 Now spoke the gipsy girl so full of glee, 
 
 And brilliant hope in future, tho' deferred ; 
 
 Tho' near the closing of their revelry ; 
 
 No trace of vain regret had yet been heard. 
 
 CCXXIII. 
 
 " As rings that wedding peal, let glad hearts swell, 
 — With thought of ages, pall not time ; alas ! 
 
 Too brief for joy. With blissful hope let's tell 
 Each other's love, and grave it on time's glass. 
 
 CCXXIV. 
 
 " None yet has told a Goblin tale. Will Lodore try ? 
 
 By fiction raise our spirits over proof. 
 The soul doth sometimes turn with inward eye, 
 
 As if from work -day thrall, 'twould hold aloof. 
 
 ccxxv. 
 " We ask not facts ; but something that might be ; 
 
 Let fancy have loose rein and pace this once ; — 
 Above proud wisdom's dull profundity, 
 
 And most of life's worn creeds, let me be dunce. 
 
 ccxxvi. 
 " Our fancies are bright sparks from life's white-heat, 
 
 Out-reaching possible and probable ; 
 Of truth more strange than fiction we oft meet ; 
 
 Facts mote than strange ; and horrors horrible."
 
 150 
 
 CCXXVIl. 
 
 He said — " I'll sketch this scene from history ; 
 
 Let each unwind, what each one fancies real. 
 A prologue shall tell part of my triste story, 
 
 Of grave advents, that happed to bold 'Hugh Neale.' " 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Some minds and hands with inevitable turns 
 For mystery that pays ; care not a rap 
 
 How each ' Mihi deum ' bad grammar learns, 
 Or banjos play, while paying noodles nap. 
 
 Ghosts trouble souls, and man shuns frequently ; 
 
 Ignored by living. Ghouls they gnaw the dead ! 
 Goblins that will not wash, haunt pond and lea ; 
 
 And Vampires prey on life, as if thus bred. 
 
 In England, now the witches race is run ; 
 
 Stamped out by fact, a much faster stepper. 
 Of Ghosts, they've lately had to patent one, 
 
 Secured by law, and science giving ' Pepper.' 
 
 This vampire tale is no disjointed dream, 
 But just what happened in these very places, 
 
 If e'er you near the Thames bright flowing stream, 
 Go ! and let fancy fill with any faces.
 
 151 
 
 A LEGEND. 
 
 « Medmenham Abbey' in the olden time. 
 
 When Papal power had sought to spread its trade, 
 And knew its strength, by fraud and force must 
 stand — 
 
 With scum of Europe, launched its first crusade 
 Against a half Christian, Pantheistic land. 
 
 In England, years ago, when Norman hosts, 
 
 O'erran that land, to work Home's Hierarch sway ; 
 
 To flood the land with faith more fell than ghosts, 
 And blight the dawn of reason's struggling ray. 
 
 'Twixt London city, and Oxford's classic pile, 
 On bank of Thames, Medmenham Abbey stood ; 
 
 Upon its porch, we still may read and smile, 
 At ' fay ce qvi vOvdras' — for harm or good. 
 
 One closing day, that seemed for joy delayed, 
 A youthful boatman waited with his barge, 
 
 Where Medmenham Abbey flung its gothic shade, 
 Across the silver Thames, from bank to marge. 
 
 — To ferry all who passage sought that way ; 
 
 The villain, serf, and burgher, paid their fares, 
 In leather tokens ; — The monks a different way ; 
 
 His punt-pole notches, shewed claims to Abbey 
 prayers.
 
 152 
 
 Of these, but little heed or count he took ; 
 
 But looked for ' Ladye Hebe ' with her token 
 Of silver bright, which with her brighter look, 
 
 And merry words, imparted joy when spoken. 
 
 She oft would ramble with her petted fawn, 
 
 Without retainers to the river side. 
 To feed the swans at eve, or early dawn, 
 
 Or by some generous act, with Abbot vied. 
 
 Hugh waited long, but saw no Baron's daughter, 
 At length mid-stream, a slipper floated down ; 
 
 He pushed quick off, and snatched it from the water ; 
 And wondered whence it came ; and who would own. 
 
 He knew its dainty make and shape full well ; 
 
 'Twas lodged as holy treasure in his vest ; 
 But joy was marred, that makes his bold heart swell ; 
 
 For Ladye Hebe's safety he's distressed. 
 
 He rowed up stream, of her no trace could see, 
 'Till sudden shrieking from one Iov^d so much, 
 
 Revealed the Ladye struggling to be free, 
 
 From the Abbot of Medmenham's vampire clutch. 
 
 For more than life, his boat dashed thro' the wave ; 
 
 He leapt on shore, and bounded thro the wood, 
 The Ladye Hebe Gilderoy to save, 
 
 But she was gone, — alone, the Abbot stood.
 
 153 
 
 With fury Hugh now faced the man of guile, 
 With crucifix upraised to smite or shrive. — 
 
 " Where is the Ladye whose scream I heard 'erewhile ? 
 The truth ! or you shall not go hence alive ! " 
 
 " Mistaken youth," he answered, with mild look, 
 " The Ladye needs rebuke, — her ways are known 
 
 As fro ward, but guidance she'll not brook ; 
 
 — Thy sinful threat, by prayer thou must atone. " 
 
 " Thou sanctimonious wretch ! " out-thundered Hugh, 
 With hand of iron grasping the Abbot's throat, — 
 
 "To hell from whence you came ! fit place for you ! " 
 His fists at every word, like hammers smote. 
 
 " This gives the hint to monkish in-door games ! 
 
 Your gang, my punt-pole-notch, I'll now notch yours ; 
 'Twould taint the fish, to fling you in the Thames, 
 
 Away ! you brute ; crawl, as you should, all-fours." 
 
 With foot, he spurned him as he lay half dead ; 
 
 Then hasted after Ladye Gilderoy ; 
 Thro' Bisham wood, and onward searching sped, 
 
 By monster beech-tree, called the 'Giant's toy.' 
 
 Past ' Wizard's elm,' and by the ' Goblin's spring,' 
 Across the ' Haunted whelm ', by ' Elfin grot.' 
 
 On ! on ! he hurried, nor heeded ' Fairy-ring ;' 
 And e'en the sign of holy cross forgot.
 
 154 
 
 Some scraps of dress had served his course to guide ; 
 
 In view of Baron's castle on he went, 
 And noble impulses his thoughts abide ; 
 
 The glades with Ladye Hebe's name were rent. 
 
 When he at length the ' Runic-cave' drew near, 
 He caught a glimpse of vestments flit from view ; 
 
 And at the entrance paused with listening ear, 
 
 And called aloud — "Fear not ! 'Tis boatman Hugh !" 
 
 He scarce had spoken, 'ere with pallid hue 
 
 Sprang forth the Ladye ; sinking on the ground 
 
 Crying " He's in the cave ! Oh ! save me Hugh !" 
 She clung, and on his breast a refuge found. 
 
 " None now shall harm thee Ladye Gilderoy! 
 
 I never knew or felt what men call fear ! 
 With ghost, or devil, a combat I'd enjoy." 
 
 With such rough words, he sought to soothe and cheer. 
 
 " No fear of Abbot again insulting you, 
 
 My marks, not silver, for many a day he'll keep. 
 
 I feel ennobled, the devil has his due ; — 
 
 Do my rude words or looks, cause you to weep ?" 
 
 " I saw your boat good Hugh ! moored in the stream, 
 When the Abbot came with guileful words and touch ; 
 
 I knew not that you heard my warning scream ; — 
 Here's silver, Hugh ! and still I owe you much.
 
 155 
 
 " I heard pursuit, and thought your step was his, 
 Nor paused in flight for dingle, corpse, or brake ; 
 
 My fright made me the castle causeway miss, 
 And in the Runic cave, a refuge take." 
 
 " My Ladye, I have learned to feel and prize 
 Your kindly words, let them my guerdon be ; 
 
 I deem them treasure, lit by your bright eyes, — 
 Am I too bold ? Oh ! say you'll pardon me. 
 
 " I know that I am blunt, rough-spoken, poor ; 
 
 Say to me, Go ! and humbly I'll obey ; 
 But not far hence is your castle's postern door ; 
 
 Pray let me guard your steps that little way." 
 
 A flashing thought ; joy, gleaming uncontrolled, 
 Revealed the ardour that his hopes impress, — 
 
 A tiny slipper's drawn from doublet fold ; 
 A tiny bleeding foot peeps 'neath her dress. 
 
 A smile that seemed to triumph over pain, 
 Won fealty, from which chivalry was born ; 
 
 He knelt, her love and knighthood to attain, 
 
 To stanch the blood, and draw the deep-set thorn. 
 
 To tie the sandalled slipper on, — his task, 
 But only one, he from the Thames did save ; 
 
 The other, where ? He has won the right to ask. 
 — 'Twas left in fright, within the Runic cave.
 
 156 
 
 The setting sun, that glowed as if at full, 
 
 Pierced thro' the foliage on this sylvan scene ; 
 
 The ladye with her paleness, beautiful ! 
 With trembling smile, she looked like nature's queen. 
 
 Her lamb's-wool kirtle dyed of tyrian hue, 
 Trimmed with rosettes of feather daisies pied, 
 
 A silk-laced boddice bared her throat to view, 
 That blushed and swelled as each emotion vied. 
 
 The stalwart form of Hugh, bent on one knee, 
 Uprose, and then before her proudly stood, 
 
 The mould of manliness, the type of chivalry ; — 
 He drank her beauty in, with reverent mood. 
 
 His dress, an easy-fitting gabardine, 
 
 And deer-skin leggings laced adown each side ; 
 With wolf-skin cap, his head and neck to screen ; 
 
 And bone-shod sandals, wrought of stout bull's hide. 
 
 His eagle-glance seemed born to love or lead : 
 His voice, to thrill an army's battle van, 
 
 And win proud fame by any life-risked deed ; 
 Or truth uphold, and win applause from man. 
 
 " Thou'lt let me now the other slipper find ?" 
 
 He said, as if a triumph were in view. 
 " No ! No ! 'Tis needless risk ! Good Hugh ! ne'er mind ! 
 
 There's danger in that cave, I fear for you.
 
 157 
 
 His robust laugh, and words bespoke his glee ; 
 
 " No witch fear I ! In horsepond 1 would dip her ! 
 If Goblin ? He shall join in game with me, 
 
 For more than one should play at ' hunt-the-slipper.' " 
 
 Her sweet appeal was lost, for rashly brave, 
 
 With new-born love that flushed his buoyant hope 
 
 To win the slipper, he plunged into the cave, 
 And for the treasure carefully did grope. 
 
 He searched 'midst darkness, as of murky night, 
 And chill, that had the shudder of the tomb, 
 
 He found it ! clasped it ! kissed it with delight ! 
 His joyous cry, woke murmurs thro' the gloom. 
 
 Now to return ; — Ah ! how in darkness find, 
 'Midst labyrinth of turnings, in and out, — 
 
 He failed to gain the path he left behind ; 
 
 His shout seemed answered by unearthly shout. 
 
 Still groping, hoping light's ray would illume 
 The silence broken by the cavern's drip, 
 
 That ticked like death-watch in a living tomb, — 
 
 When 'gainst the rock, he's held with vice-like grip. 
 
 Two fiery orbs out-glare his startled gaze ; 
 
 A hot rank vapour reeks his gasping breath ; 
 He signs the cross, a prayer with fervour says ; 
 
 He feek that now he's face to face with death !
 
 158 
 
 Was it a deathly dream, or did he die ? 
 
 'Midst crash, and pain, and whirl to deep abyss, — 
 Life's trickling blood ! and foot-falls rushing by, 
 
 Give sense of being, yet living senses miss. 
 
 His hands were raised in supplicating prayer ; 
 
 With horror, quickly they're drawn down again, 
 From touch of clammy hands above him there ; — 
 
 Fear stagnates soul, and 'numbs his racking pain. 
 
 With frenzied force he gave a maddened spring, 
 But into arms that feel to drip with gore ; 
 
 The Abbot's curses in his ears now ring, 
 
 As down he's borne — he feels, he hears no more. 
 
 Awhile, his heavy eyelids feel there's light, 
 
 And then they feel a shade, and soft warm breath 
 
 Inglows his soul with sweet renewed delight, — 
 Oh ! was this prayer ? or was it bliss of death ? 
 
 Again with drowsy languor, faint surprise, 
 
 Awakes his brain, but tongue no speech can set ; 
 
 He feels a gentle pressure close his eyes, — 
 
 The voice, he knows it, whispers — " Hugh ! not yet !" 
 
 " Your voice is life !" with pain he faintly gasped, — 
 " But are you safe ? Oh ! may I hold your hand ?" 
 
 Both soft warm hands his trembling fingers clasp, — 
 " I'll rise ! we'll go ! Oh God ! I cannot stand !"
 
 159 
 
 " Be calm, good Hugh ! 'Tis Hebe now]with thee ! 
 
 Thou'lt soon recover from this sad mishap ; 
 Try, rest awhile ! See, thou art nursed by me." — 
 
 He found his head was pillowed on her lap. 
 
 He sought to read her looks, that life renewed ; 
 
 But horrors fresh, were climaxed o'er him now ; 
 He sees her hands, and dress with blood imbrued ; 
 
 Her shredded kirtle bound his arm and brow. 
 
 She reads his quailing glance that seems distraught ; — 
 Resolved to mould her looks with girlish guile ; 
 
 She knows her face, to him doth index thought, 
 And so she wreathes each word with happiest smile. 
 
 " I've played within the cave from childhood's days 
 When lighted up, and every path know well, 
 
 In darkness too, I've tracked its winding ways, 
 And never feared the fabled Runic spell. 
 
 " My father early taught me naught to fear 
 
 But living things ; and man the most ! 
 He said, — how near be danger ; God's more near ! 
 
 And scorn the flimsy fancy of a Ghost. 
 
 " I, footsteps heard when sheltering in the cave, 
 And lost my slipper in my outward flight, 
 
 Which you both sought and found, 'Sir Hugh the Brave,' 
 Which most doth give, to you, or me, delight ?"
 
 100 
 
 " I know I live, but how comes it to pass, 
 
 That I am here, and blood your hands doth stain ?" 
 
 " It's thine," she said — "thou'rt not unscathed, alas! 
 I'll tell thee now thou look'st thyself again. 
 
 " I feared for thee, and waited listening nigh, 
 I heard thy voice in joy, and then in pain ; 
 When from the cave a frighted stag rushed by, 
 With broken antler, red with thy blood's stain, 
 
 " I entered searching, 'till I reached the fount, 
 And found thee 'midst the broked statues round ; 
 
 Thy warm blood bubbling ! — but more, need I recount ? 
 Thine hand still grasped the slipper thou had'st found. 
 
 " I rolled one broken image off your breast ; 
 
 Why Hugh, you smile ! Dost feel another there ? 
 Ah ! well ! your's was not all a bootless quest ! 
 
 Nor mine ; Hugh, proved the slipper I found there. 
 
 " 'Midst Eunic statues of old faiths and creeds, 
 That time revives with other names and masks, 
 
 To symbol attributes of mind or deeds, 
 
 And rouse to nobler purpose, — holier tasks. 
 
 Thou could' st not speak, yet knew well what I said ; 
 
 " I led thee forth to where thou liest now ; 
 Soon from the castle, I will get thee aid, 
 
 'Thou'lt let thy Hebe wait on thee'l trow.
 
 161 
 
 The Baron listened to his daughter's story 
 
 And swore — When Hugh got well, his squire should 
 be 
 In war, and win a belted knight's proud glory 
 
 As well as Hebe's heart and hand, — if free. 
 
 In few brief days ; an armoured cavalcade, 
 Halts at the drawbridge, as for war it starts ; 
 
 With Hugh there stands a beauteous weeping ma 
 To plight the troth that links their loving heart 
 
 She whispered — " I have ranged thy words in rhyme 
 Upon this scrip, to wear anear thine heait, 
 
 From whence they came — you know that time 
 You vowed eternal love,' should we e'er part." 
 
 A LOVER'S SCRIP. 
 
 No doubting thoughts shall e'er uprise 
 
 To cast a dismal shade 
 O'er love like ours that never dies, 
 
 And hope, that ne'er betrayed. 
 
 When glory calls me far away, 
 
 Love's faith shall bind us ever, 
 As time enweaves the night with day ; 
 
 Or ocean blends with river.
 
 162 
 
 The armour gleaming on my breast, 
 
 May mirror love or strife ; 
 Next its unburnished side shall rest 
 
 Thine impress for my life. 
 
 There, thrills shall glow arrayed in light, 
 As each day's course doth run ; 
 
 True as the rays and shade unite 
 Time's dial with the sun. 
 
 Such index shall bear love to me 
 Of heaven's own smile above, 
 
 To glorify our constancy, 
 And halo lasting love,. 
 
 With heart -felt reverence the scrip was ta'en, 
 And firm resolve to win the cleric power, 
 
 To read and write, as well as fight, and gain 
 Eenown to match this lady's glorious dower. 
 
 " No spoil or wealth, but knightly prowess true, 
 Shall plume thy rank and honor equal her's, 
 
 Who decks thy crest with this emblazoned shoe, 
 And bids thee change thy steel, for golden spurs.
 
 163 
 
 "So true.td thy sworn love, — but honour claim, 
 With strength of soul, as well as power of arm ; 
 
 Thus shalt thou win the garland of fair fame, 
 And all thy triumphs bear a hallowed charm." 
 
 She placed a mighty falchion in his hands — 
 His mailed arm, her graceful form entwines, — 
 
 " My God ! —My Hebe ! And my King's commands ! 
 Shall know each act, for which this weapon shines !" 
 
 From out the sheath, he drew the glittering blade ; 
 
 Its lustre shewed his features and her own ; 
 He swore't should pierce his heart, ere truth betrayed, 
 
 And kissed the spot whereon her image shone. 
 
 " 'Till thou return' st, confide ! nor heed alarms ; 
 
 Be sure thou doubt'st, e'en if 'tis said, I'm wed ! 
 But when thou find'st me in another's arms ; 
 
 Believe ! Spare not ! but justly strike me dead ! 
 
 "The world may say thou'rt base ! vile ! cruel grown ; 
 
 I'll doubt it ! Come ! tho't be to say, — 'Tis true ! 
 Thy Hebe's super-love shall wrong condone, 
 
 And she will kiss all sin away from Hugh ! 
 
 And when returned, — to tell of deeds that move 
 
 The soul's high impulse, for good that wrongs 
 efface ; — 
 
 At trysting spot, which thou hast named in love, 
 Thou'lt find a bower built called ' Ladye's Place.'
 
 164 
 
 And there we'll live for love, and love for life ; 
 
 And thou shalt find my love is all thine own " — 
 " One kiss ! My Hebe ! Whom God will make my 
 wife !" 
 
 The cavalcade moves on ! She weeps alone. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 " Had I been Hebe, and thou, the gallant Hugh," 
 Said Isoline, — " Ne'er should'st thou've gone away ! 
 
 Did he return to bless a love so true ? 
 
 Their fates seem like our own ! — Tell me, I pray." 
 
 " When you have learned to read that language well " 
 Said Lodore— " You'll find a nursery tale amuse ; 
 
 'Tis of a noble dame who used to tell, 
 
 What knightly worth and fame, was bold Sir Hugh's. 
 
 " That warrior brave ; her slipper for his crest ; 
 
 She'd tell how won by him, — how she had worn, 
 And by that symbol, marked her last bequest 
 
 Of wealth, endowing schools for lowly born. 
 
 " With tracks of land, and money-gifts for ever 
 In charity, which she called ' Good Sir Hugh's'. 
 
 The poor got none ; yet bless the noble giver, 
 Who was, — " Y e Ladye good, of y e two shoes."
 
 165 
 
 CCXXVIII. 
 
 'Midst full-swing mirth, or varied din of pleasure, 
 Some minds as keenly note an outward change ; 
 
 A snapping branch, or pause in music's measure, 
 As 'midst abstraction's calm reflecting range. 
 
 ccxxix. 
 A villager in quiet undertone, 
 
 Directs to sounds and sights, tho' far away ; — 
 A moving mass of green, on which there shone 
 
 A brilliant sunset of this closing day. 
 
 ccxxx. 
 A trusty scout, on rapid survey sent ; 
 
 Brought startling news which soon around was spread ; 
 The loads of grass, but hide an armament, 
 
 With teamster's village-garbed with martial tread. 
 
 ccxxxi. 
 Bold hearts throbbed high, but as if simply nought, 
 
 But loaded hay-wains rumbled from afar ; 
 Each strove by mirth to hide death's boding thought, 
 
 Of havoc's finger beckoning to fell war. 
 
 ccxxxii. 
 A youth who wjre Italia's gay rosette; 
 
 To one he loved, a tribute brought in song ; 
 It graced fond memory, he could not forget, 
 
 While whispered hopes the parting hour prolong.
 
 166 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh ! let me love thee ! let me dare to tell, 
 
 Why my proud heart in homage bows to thee ; 
 
 ''Tis not because thy beauty weaves its spell 
 Around all hearts with sweet simplicity. 
 
 "Tis not because thy smile entranced my gaze, 
 Whene'er we met ; Ah ! ne'er to meet again ; 
 
 But for that holy worth thy life displays ; 
 Evoking joy, where else might be sad pain. 
 
 Thou doest more than read the sacred scroll, 
 
 Which sayest " Let little children come to me." 
 
 Thou goest to them,, with thy pure spotless soul, 
 Exalting all by thy warm sympathy. 
 
 A child's share of thy radiant love I claim ; 
 
 Its calm effulgence shall illume and bless ! 
 Thro' life's stern trials and high o'er fickle fame ; 
 
 As beacon star in glory or distress. 
 
 <OEA E SEMPRE.' 
 
 Those tinted mountains round, 
 High emblems of the free ; 
 
 Mark out the warrior-ground 
 Of faith, and liberty.
 
 167 
 
 Yon peaks that lance high heaven, 
 Like spear-heads in array ; 
 
 Conduct the lightning given, 
 On battle-fields to play. 
 
 As sweeping avalanch, 
 
 Or bursting cataracts rush ; . 
 True freedom's soldiers stanch, 
 
 Thundering onward crush. 
 
 To sweep crime from the earth! 
 
 To rouse the God in man ! 
 In woman plant the birth 
 
 Of freedom's glorious plan. 
 
 ccxxxm. 
 Now Sahgan spoke, with warning for his text, 
 
 Not of weak fear, but judgment of the past ; 
 "Twixt doubt and firm 'esolve his mind's perplexed ; 
 
 He'd seen fell force, Italia' s freedom blast. 
 
 ccxxxiv. 
 " Few years ago when reason's glorious dawn, 
 
 Awoke her sons from their long lethargy ; 
 And shewed that priest-craft held their souls in pawn 
 
 To superstition's vested infamy.
 
 168 
 
 ccxxxv. 
 " How brief the months, that saw Rome proudly free ! 
 
 A calm and grand exemplar for the world ! — 
 By treachery and vile diplomacy 
 
 Her life was slain, and truth to hell was hurled. 
 
 ccxxxvi. 
 'Twas France's cut-throat conscripts, pliant tools 
 For this great crime, the world doth not disown ; — 
 A people's murder, wrought by glory's fools, 
 At beck of priests from men to demons grown. 
 
 ccxxxvu. 
 " And smirking optimists, and hireling scribes ; 
 
 More subtle combatants for not being brave 
 Enough to fight, — spat venomed diatribes 
 
 On cause so just, now sunk in freedom's grave. 
 
 ccxxxvni. 
 " I felt hate could be holy, if 'twere just ; 
 
 And where the battle raged, and surged about, 
 Into the midst with fury I too rushed 
 
 And rallied trampled freedom by the shout. 
 
 ccxxxix. 
 " Ora e sempre ' ! like an electric shock, 
 
 Roused slaves to men, despair to chivalry ; 
 We cut a path thro' foes whose writhings mock 
 
 Our shouts for Italy ! and Victory !
 
 169 
 
 CCXL. 
 
 " From ' San Pancrazio's gate ' The band of Death,' 
 With carnage strewed ,he path where'er it went ; 
 
 Each patriot life is yielded free as breath ; 
 
 Each, worth ten thousand of such foes, is spent. 
 
 CCXLI. 
 
 " Side by side, and back to back, there stood 
 With me in thickest flight, a mountaineer 
 
 With sword and carbine dripping with foes blood, — 
 Death ! marked the triumph victory bought so dear, 
 
 CCXLI I. 
 
 " By noblest manhood, heedless of the cost 
 By which it won success ; alas ! but few 
 
 Eeturned that day, that few saw all was lost ; 
 
 While foes from half the world, their ranks renew. 
 
 CCXLlll. 
 
 " From ' Angelo ' I saw war's brood augment, 
 Whilst death and want our rank so quickly thin, 
 
 And circling flames lap up our best blood spent, — 
 Why let these murderers more than ruins win ? 
 
 CCXLIV. 
 
 " A chosen few, who felt 'twere shame to live, 
 While death could work a havoc to our foe ; 
 
 Had laid the train, and waited me to give 
 
 The word, to fire ! and end all with our blow.
 
 170 
 
 CCXLV. 
 
 " I bit my lips, and drank the bubh' ood 
 
 That stayed that word, which g^ :n my breast ; 
 
 That would have scooped up hell t< re we stood 
 
 And laid Rome! Victors ! and o -s, at rest. 
 
 CCLVI. 
 
 ' ; But Carl who lingered still so nea ;ide 
 
 Whispered Forbear ! Live ! Tr ._ 11 triumph yet ! 
 This fell success, is France's suicide ! 
 
 False glory's sun ne'er rose, but what it set. 
 
 CCXLVII. 
 
 " And it may set in ' Alsace ' and ' Lorraine ;' 
 
 O'er many a city's ruin, to war tossed ! 
 While Northmen's steeds shall paw th? blood-stained 
 Seine : 
 And France shall buy dear peace with half France 
 lost! 
 
 CCXLVIII. 
 
 " Down-crushed Italia, "gain felt honor's throb, 
 
 Tho' held in bondage by French mouchard hordei, 
 
 By covert sanction, other states helped rob 
 
 Her sons of that poor joy, bright hope affords.
 
 171 
 
 ccxux. 
 " Proud England, by ' Convention,' navies lent 
 
 To Hapsburg's jailers, to suppress in blood, 
 A sign of manhood — were one left unspent 
 
 Of freedom's struggle, noblest since the flood. 
 
 CCL. 
 
 " The western world, republic but in name ! 
 
 For a cracked dollar, ready to make war, 
 Or peace ; mouthed phrases, then gulphed down its shame 
 
 With bluster of self-praise at some trade flaw. 
 
 CCLI. 
 
 "Why dwell on scenes, which won but failure's curse ? 
 
 Avoid defeat, and so make victory sure ! 
 Italia's wrongs react, — the world, makes worse ! — 
 
 He serves the world who makes success secure. 
 
 CCLII. 
 
 " Upraise thy views, outgrasp the despots range 
 Of will to act ; and proud defiance fling ! 
 
 Who'll dare to question ? You evoke the change ! 
 
 'Till slaves are men ? Make thou, thyself their King ! 
 
 CCLIII. 
 
 " Let come what may ; count on my active aid : 
 My tribes shall horse you many a regiment then ; 
 
 Arfd Lodore's genius we have seen displayed ; 
 A means will find, to make one man as ten."
 
 172 
 
 CCLIV. 
 
 The day was verging to its epic end ; 
 
 The glowing west, bespoke the morrow's thought, 
 Each one drew closer to their dearest friend, 
 
 And future, claimed the germs this day had wrought. 
 
 CCLV. 
 
 In song, fond Isoline her grief expressed 
 
 With smiles more sad than sobs relieving gasp, — 
 
 A flood of tears is shed on Lodore's breast, 
 
 When his ' Good bye !' her clinging arms unclasp. 
 
 FAREWELL SONG OF ISOLINE. 
 O h ! say tbou'lt not a warrior be ! 
 
 Andlonely leave the gipsy girl, 
 Oh ! can'st thou from these fond arms flee ? 
 
 For arms of steel, and banners' furl. 
 
 My hope, my joy, my life, is thine ! 
 
 I dare avow such love for thee ; 
 With open soul placed on the shrine, 
 
 Of thy pure mind's integrity. 
 
 Oh ! pledge me but thy manly love ; 
 
 Brim up my girlhood's life with bliss ; 
 'Twill win the smdes of heaven above, 
 To sanctify our farewell kiss.
 
 173 
 
 CCLVI. 
 
 " Farewell, doth not mean death !" pale Lilla said, — 
 " I've lived a life with thee for this short day ; 
 
 Think not good Leo ! that all joy has fled ; 
 
 'Twill flash again with hope, when thou'rt away ' 
 
 FAREWELL SONG OF LILLA. 
 Words fail to tell tht fond love I bear thee ! 
 Hope, seems to die if thou art not near me ! 
 Sighs from my soul, waft halos around thee ! 
 Smiles shall be thine, tho' grief links have bound me I 
 
 My head may ne'er more recline on thy breast ! 
 Thy heart's fond pulsations ne'er hush me to rest ! 
 Or spirit of joy, strew garlanas before me ! 
 Nor undying love keep guardian watch o'er me ! 
 
 As bright star of heaven, or flower of the vale ; 
 Or lisp of the streamlet ; or lull of the gale ; 
 Or word to the wish ; or deed to the prayer ; 
 I'll be all to thee love, tho' thou art not near. 
 
 CCLVII. 
 
 In thought, blind Carl alone so silent sits, 
 His face bears trace of contemplation's sway 
 
 He's asked what thought err meditation fits 
 His pensive musings of this Epic day.
 
 174 
 LIFE. 
 
 How shall we judge the worth of life ? 
 'Midst solemn calm, and whirling strife, 
 How treasure most the use of time ? 
 Through every age, in every clime. 
 The start in life ! — a race with death ! 
 Come ! Gone ! forgotten gasp of breath ! 
 Drawn or driven, by praise or blame ! 
 Is this Humanity's grand aim ? 
 How many dare their life disown ? 
 For chaos ! Eternity ! The grand unknown ! 
 Doth woman's travail ne'er forecast ? 
 Death's lull as bliss, life's pangs outlast. 
 A moment's stay upon this earth ; 
 Say, is't to some e'er worth its birth ? 
 Its creeds, its science, and the wreck 
 Of worlds, that leave no marking speck ! 
 To tell of min, his joy, his grief, 
 His precepts, or his vain belief. 
 What tho' he pray, bliss-bribed and cry, — ■ 
 " Do as thou would'st be done by !" 
 Some without creeds do more than this ; 
 Whilst sects, the precept's action miss. 
 To love with truth, is worth a life ; 
 Defying hate, despising strife !
 
 And V. 
 Of L 
 AndC 
 To blig 
 
 Who s 
 And m 
 
 I7f 
 
 ipnS; with their frauds! 
 ide ! Fashion ! Hireling swo 
 
 brain, with ready pen, 
 i >es of honest men, 
 
 ith with open soul, 
 Iumanity more whole. 
 
 CCLVIII. 
 
 At duty's 
 And 1 
 
 While far 
 Heroic 
 
 when clarions ring, they start ; 
 purpose on each soul sets seal ; 
 ireathed by those who thencr I 
 proclaims the patriot's zeal. 
 
 CCLIX 
 
 From m paths the evening gales prolong 
 
 The he !r pariings borne back from afar 
 
 In fainter ec loes of triumphant song 
 
 Of Lev'.; ! and Truth! and Liberty ! Hurrah ! 
 
 HURRAH ! 
 
 Ere throbbing hearts around, 
 Are hushed by parting's pause, 
 
 Let hill and vale resound ; 
 Long live Italia's cause ! 
 Hurrah !
 
 176 
 
 Ere kiss-prints fade 'neath words, 
 O r so bs leap from the breast ; 
 
 Let our untarnished swords 
 Reflect the glow expressed. 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 While hand is clasped in hand, 
 And tear-gaze reads each eye ; 
 
 Swear honour to the band, 
 That may to-morrow die ! 
 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 Now each has said Farewell ! 
 
 And breathed a last Good-bye ! 
 We'll pledge 'neath love's bright spell ; 
 
 Truth ! Reason ! Liberty ! 
 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 THE FND. 
 
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