Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

And I'll think I see the little stile

And, that dumb companion eying,
The tears gushed forth which he strove to check ;

Where we sat side by side,
And the springin' corn, and the bright May morn, He bowed his head on his charger's neck :
When first you were my bride.
"O steed, that every nerve didst strain,
HELEN SELINA SHERIDAN, LADY DUFFERIN. Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain
To the halls where my love lay dying!

CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH NORTON.

THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE.

WORD was brought to the Danish king
(Hurry!)

That the love of his heart lay suffering,
And pined for the comfort his voice would bring;
(0, ride as though you were flying!)
Better he loves each golden curl

On the brow of that Scandinavian girl
Than his rich crown jewels of ruby and pearl :

And his rose of the isles is dying!

Thirty nobles saddled with speed;

(Hurry!)

Each one mounting a gallant steed
Which he kept for battle and days of need;
(O, ride as though you were flying!)
Spurs were struck in the foaming flank;
Worn-out chargers staggered and sank;
Bridles were slackened, and girths were burst;
But ride as they would, the king rode first,
For his rose of the isles lay dying!

His nobles are beaten, one by one;

(Hurry!)

They have fainted, and faltered, and homeward

gone;

His little fair page now follows alone,

For strength and for courage trying!
The king looked back at that faithful child;
Wan was the face that answering smiled;
They passed the drawbridge with clattering din,
Then he dropped; and only the king rode in
Where his rose of the isles lay dying!

The king blew a blast on his bugle horn;
(Silence!)

No answer came; but faint and forlorn
An echo returned on the cold gray morn,
Like the breath of a spirit sighing.

The castle portal stood grimly wide;
None welcomed the king from that weary ride;
For dead, in the light of the dawning day,
The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay,
Who had yearned for his voice while dying!

The panting steed, with a drooping crest,
Stood weary.

The king returned from her chamber of rest,
The thick sobs choking in his breast;

THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET.
O'ER a low couch the setting sun
Had thrown its latest ray,
Where in his last strong agony
A dying warrior lay, -
The stern old Baron Rudiger,

Whose frame had ne'er been bent
By wasting pain, till time and toil
Its iron strength had spent.

"They come around me here, and say
My days of life are o'er,
That I shall mount my noble steed

And lead my band no more;
They come, and to my beard they dare
To tell me now, that I,

Their own liege lord and master born,
That I ha! ha! must die.

"And what is Death? I've dared him oft Before the Paynim spear,

Think ye he's entered at my gate,

Has come to seek me here?

I've met him, faced him, scorned him,
When the fight was raging hot,

I'll try his might - I'll brave his power;
Defy, and fear him not.

"Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower,
And fire the culverin,

Bid each retainer arm with speed,

Call every vassal in ;

Up with my banner on the wall,
The banquet-board prepare,
Throw wide the portal of my hall,
And bring my armor there!"

A hundred hands were busy then,
The banquet forth was spread,
And rung the heavy oaken floor

With many a martial tread,
While from the rich, dark tracery

Along the vaulted wall,

Lights gleamed on harness, plume, and spear,
O'er the proud old Gothic hall.

Fast hurrying through the outer gate,

The mailed retainers poured,

On through the portal's frowning arch,
And thronged around the board.

[blocks in formation]

O, fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing,
How light was thy heart till love's witchery

came,

Like the wind of the south o'er a summer lute

blowing,

But long, upon Araby's green sunny highlands, Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom

Of her who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands, With naught but the sea-star to light up her tomb.

And still, when the merry date-season is burning,
And calls to the palm-groves the young and
the old,

The happiest there, from their pastime returning
At sunset, will weep when thy story is told.
The young village maid, when with flowers she
dresses

Her dark-flowing hair for some festival day,
Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses,
She mournfully turns from the mirror away.
Nor shall Iran, beloved of her hero, forget thee, —
Though tyrants watch over her tears as they

[blocks in formation]

FROM "HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK," ACT 1. SC. 2.

QUEEN. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

And hushed all its music and withered its frame! Do not, forever, with thy veiled lids

[blocks in formation]

Two pale feet crossed in rest, The race is won;

HAM. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not Two eyes with coin-weights shut,

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

FROM HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK, ACT 111. SC. 1.

HAMLET. To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 't is nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 't is a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep;
To sleep! perchance to dream :-ay, there's the
rub;

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pains of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death, —
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

SHAKESPEARE.

THE TWO MYSTERIES.

["In the middle of the room, in its white coffin, lay the dead child, the nephew of the poet. Near it, in a great chair, sat Walt Whitman, surrounded by little ones, and holding a beautiful little girl on his lap. She looked wonderingly at the spectacle of death. and then inquiringly into the old man's face, 'You don't know what it is, do you, my dear? said he, and added, 'We don't, either.'"]

We know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep and still;

The folded hands, the awful calm, the cheek so pale and chill;

The lids that will not lift again, though we may

call and call;

The strange white solitude of peace that settles over all.

We know not what it means, dear, this desolate heart-pain;

This dread to take our daily way, and walk in it again;

We know not to what other sphere the loved who leave us go,

And, by opposing, end them? To die, to Nor why we 're left to wonder still, nor why we

sleep:

do not know.

« VorigeDoorgaan »