Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the | Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, battle-flags were furled matched with mine, In the parliament of man, the federation of the Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water world. unto wine at least, where nature sickens, nothing. Ah for some retreat And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in uni- Deep in yonder shining Orient, where my life versal law. began to beat! So I triumphed ere my passion sweeping through Where in wild Mahratta-battle fell my father, me left me dry, evil-starred; Left me with a palsied heart, and left me with I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish the jaundiced eye; uncle's ward. Eye, to which all order festers, all things here Or to burst all links of habit, there to wander are out of joint. far away, Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on On from island unto island at the gateways of from point to point : the day, Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creep- Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and ing nigher, happy skies, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, slowly dying fire. Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, knots of Paradise. Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, -- And the thoughts of men are widened with the Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings process of the suns. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys, hough the deep heart of existence beat forever like a boy's? the trailer from the crag, Droops the heavy-blossomed bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree, Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea. Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers; and I There, methinks, would be enjoyment more than linger on the shore, in this march of mind And the individual withers, and the world is In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts more and more. that shake mankind. Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and he There the passions, cramped no longer, shall bears a laden breast, have scope and breathing-space ; Full of sad experience moving toward the still- I will take some savage woman, she shall rear ness of his rest. my dusky race. Hark! my merry comrades call me, sounding on Iron-jointed, supple-sinewed, they shall dive, the bugle horn, and they shall run, They to whom my foolish passion were a target Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their for their scorn; lances in the sun, Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the mouldered string? rainbows of the brooks, I am shamed through all my nature to have loved Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable so slight a thing. books Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's Fool, again the dream, the fancy but I know pleasure, woman's pain my words are wild, Nature made them blinder motions bounded in But I count the gray barbarian lower than the a shallower brain; Christian child. I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our | For his, too, somewhat. Let him stand unblamed; glorious gains, None say, he gave me less than honor claimed, Like a beast. with lower pleasures, like a beast Except -one trifle scarcely worth being named with lower pains! Mated with a squalid savage, sun or clime? what to me were The heart. That's gone. The corrupt dead might be As easily raised up, breathing, - fair to see, I, the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files As he could bring his whole heart back to me. of time, I never sought him in coquettish sport, I, that rather held it better men should perish Or courted him as silly maidens court, O, had he whispered, when his sweetest kiss O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath Was warm upon my mouth in fancied bliss, not set; Ancient founts of inspiration well through all my fancy yet. It were less bitter! Sometimes I could weep Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Were not my anguish far too dry and deep. Comes a vapor from the margin, blackening over heath and holt, So I built my house upon another's ground; And when that heart grew colder,— colder still, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a I, ignorant, tried all duties to fulfil, thunderbolt. Blaming my foolish pain, exacting will, Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or All, anything but him. It was to be The full draught others drink up carelessly For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and Was made this bitter Tantalus-cup for me. fire or snow; te'll keep that other woman from my sight. As his was mine; I only know he stands Lest I should grieve, or jealous anger show. And so my silent moan begins and ends, No world's laugh or world's taunt, no pity of friends Or sneer of foes, with this my torment blends. None knows, none heeds. I have a little pride; And I shall take his children to my arms; And haply as the solemn years go by, DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK. DEATH OF THE WHITE FAWN. THE wanton troopers, riding by, Who killed thee. Thou ne'er didst, alive, Keeps register of everything; And nothing may we use in vain ; Even beasts must be with justice slain, Though they should wash their guilty hands 66 One morning (I remember well) With this; and, very well content, Had it lived long, I do not know With sweetest milk and sugar, first It waxed more white and sweet than they. I blushed to see its foot more soft It is a wondrous thing how fleet I have a garden of my own, To be a little wilderness; And all the springtime of the year Have sought it oft, where it should lie; And then to me 't would boldly trip, Had it lived long, it would have been O, help! O, help! I see it faint, Melt in such amber tears as these. I in a golden phial will Keep these two crystal tears, and fill Now my sweet fawn is vanished to With milk-white lambs, and ermines pure. O, do not run too fast! for I Will but bespeak thy grave and die. Be cut in marble; and withal, Let it be weeping too. But there The engraver sure his art may spare ; That I shall weep, though I be stone, ANDREW MARVELL. THE MAID'S LAMENT. I LOVED him not; and yet, now he is gone, I feel I am alone. I checked him while he spoke; yet could he speak, For reasons not to love him once I sought, To vex myself and him : I now would give Who lately lived for me, and when he found He hid his face amid the shades of death! Who wasted his for me; but mine returns, Is it God? ROBERT BROWNING. BLIGHTED LOVE. FLOWERS are fresh, and bushes green, Hope, that buds in lover's heart, Lives not through the scorn of years; Time makes love itself depart; Time and scorn congeal the mind, - Freeze affection's warmest tears. SHIPS AT SEA. I HAVE ships that went to sea I have seen them in my sleep, I have wondered why they strayed From me, sailing round the world. And I've said, "I'm half afraid That their sails will ne'er be furled.' Great the treasures that they hold, Silks, and plumes, and bars of gold; While the spices that they bear Fill with fragrance all the air, As they sail, as they sail. |