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EE, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poet's wants the freshness of its prime; Spite of the sexton's browsing horse, the sods Have struggled through its binding osier-rods; Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry, Wanting the brickwork promised by and by ; How the minute gray lichens, plate o'er plate, Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date !
AY but you, who do not love her,
Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught, — speak truth, — above her?
Aught like this tress, see, and this tress,
And this last fairest tress of all
Because, you spend your lives in praising;
To praise, you search the wide world over; So, why not witness, calmly gazing,
If earth holds aught — speak truth — above her? Above this tress, and this I touch But cannot praise, I love so much!
INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP.
You know. we French stormed Ratisbon :
A mile or so away
Stood on our storming-day;
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
Oppressive with its mind.
Just as perhaps he mused, “My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,
Waver at yonder wall,”
A rider, bound on bound
Until he reached the mound.
Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect
You hardly could suspect
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)
Was all but shot in two.
“Well,” cried he, “ Emperor, by God's grace
We've got you Ratisbon !
And you 'll be there anon
To see your flag-bird flap his vans
Where I, to heart's desire, Perched him!” The Chief's eye flashed; his plans
Soared up again like fire.
The Chief's eye flashed; but presently
Softened itself, as sheathes A film the mother eagle's eye
When her bruised eaglet breathes : “ You ’re wounded !” “Nay,” his soldier's pride
Touched to the quick, he said : “I'm killed, Sire !” And, his Chief beside,
Smiling, the boy fell dead.
THE BOY AND THE ANGEL.
ORNING, evening, noon, and night,
Then to his poor trade he turned,
Hard he labored, long and well;
But ever, at each period,
Then back again his curls he threw,
Said Blaise, the listening monk, “Well done;
“ As well as if thy voice to-day
And from a boy, to youth he grew :
The man matured and fell away
And ever o'er the trade he bent,
(He did God's will; to him, all one If on the earth or in the sun.)
God said, “ A praise is in mine ear;