FROM GHENT TO AIX. "How they'll greet us!". - and all in a moment his roan Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall, 55 Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is, friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground, Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. WHERE the quiet-colored end of evening smiles WH On the solitary pastures where our sheep, Half-asleep, Tinkle homeward through the twilight, stray or stop Was the site once of a city great and gay, Of our country's very capital, its prince Held his court in, gathered councils, wielding far Now, the country does not even boast a tree, As you see, To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills Intersect and give a name to, (else they run LOVE AMONG THE RUINS. Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall Made of marble, men might march on nor be prest, And such plenty and perfection, see, of grass Such a carpet as, this summer-time, o'erspreads Every vestige of the city, guessed alone, Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe Lust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame And that glory and that shame alike, the gold Now, the single little turret that remains By the caper overrooted, by the gourd Overscored, While the patching houseleek's head of blossom winks Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time And a burning ring all round, the chariots traced And the monarch and his minions and his dames And I know, while thus the quiet-colored eve To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece 57 And the slopes and rills in undistinguished gray Melt away That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair In the turret, whence the charioteers caught soul When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb, But he looked upon the city, every side, All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades' All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts, and then, When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand, On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech In one year they sent a million fighters forth And they built their gods a brazen pillar high Yet reserved a thousand chariots in full force, Gold, of course. O heart! O blood that freezes, blood that burns! For whole centuries of folly, noise, and sin! With their triumphs and their glories and the rest. |