V. And I know, while thus the quiet-coloured eve To their folding, all our many tinkling fleece And the slopes and rills in undistinguished grey That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair Waits me there In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb VI. But he looked upon the city, every side, Far and wide, All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades, All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts, and then, All the men! When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand, Either hand On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace Of my face, Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech VII. In one year they sent a million fighters forth And they built their gods a brazen pillar high As the sky, Yet reserved a thousand chariots in full force Gold, of course. Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns! Earth's returns For whole centuries of folly, noise, and sin! Shut them in, With their triumphs and their glories and the rest! Love is best. (1855.) INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP. I. You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away, On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. II. Just as perhaps he mused 'My plans Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew Full-galloping; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound. III. Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. IV. 'Well,' cried he, 'Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon! The Marshal's in the market-place, 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. V. The chief's eye flashed; but presently A film the mother-eagle's eye When her bruised eaglet breathes. 'You're wounded!' 'Nay,' the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said: 'I'm killed, Sire!' And his chief beside, Smiling the boy fell dead. TWO IN THE CAMPAGNA. 1. I wonder do you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, We sat down on the grass, to stray In spirit better through the land, This morn of Rome and May? II. For me, I touched a thought, I know, III. Help me to hold it! First it left The yellowing fennel, run to seed There, branching from the brickwork's cleft, IV. Where one small orange cup amassed Five beetles,-blind and green they grope, Among the honey-meal: and last, Everywhere on the grassy slope, I traced it. Hold it fast! V. The champaign with its endless fleece VI. Such life here, through such lengths of hours, Such primal naked forms of flowers, VII. How say you? Let us, O my dove, To love or not to love? VIII. I would that you were all to me, IX. I would I could adopt your will, See with your eyes, and set my heart Beating by yours, and drink my fill At your soul's springs,-your part my part In life, for good and ill. X No. I yearn upward, touch you close, XI. Already how am I so far Out of that minute? Must I go XII. Just when I seemed about to learn! Infinite passion, and the pain of finite hearts that yearn. (1855.) UP AT A VILLA-DOWN IN THE CITY. (As distinguished by an Italian Person of quality.) I. Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, II. Something to see, by Bacchus, something to hear, at least! III. Well now, look at our villa! stuck like the horn of a bull IV. But the city, oh the city-the square with the houses! Why? They are stone-faced, white as a curd, there's something to take the eye! Houses in four straight lines, not a single front awry; |