The time is come. See how he points his eager hand this way, See how his eyes gloat on thy grief, like a kite's upon the prey! With all his wit, he little deems, that spurned, betrayed, bereft, Thy father hath in his despair one fearful refuge left: He little deems that in this hand I clutch what still can save Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, the portion of the slave; Yea, and from nameless evil, that passeth taunt and blow,— Foul outrage which thou knowest not, which thou shalt never know. Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give me one more kiss: And now, mine own dear little girl, there is no way but this." With that he lifted high the steel and smote her in the side, THE gold sun went into the west, "Twas autumn-tide-the eve was sweet Had lightly touched, and left it golden; A flower or two were shining yet; The star of the daisy had not yet set,It shone from the turf to greet the air Which tenderly came breathing there; And in a brook which loved to fret O'er yellow sand and pebble blue, The lily of the silvery hue All freshly dwelt, with white leaves wet. Away the sparkling water played, Through bending grass and blessed flower; Passed like a breath; the time of buttercups, The fluttering time of sweet forget-me-nots; The time of passion and the rose-the haytime [man weeps, Of that last summer of hope! The old The old man weeps. His aimless hand the joyless book puts by; As one that dreams and fears to wake, the sage With vacant eye stifles the trembling taper, Lets in the moonlight, and for once is wise. (Interlude of music.) There went an incense through the midnight land, [men slept. Through the hushed holy land where tired It fell upon a simple cottage child, Laid where the lattice opened on the sky, And she looked up and said, Those flowers the stars Smell sweet to-night." God rest her ignorance! Of childhood and the dead. From parapets Where the sky rests; from broken niches [them,- -each More than Olympus, for the gods dwelt in Below, from senatorial halls, and seats Imperial; where the ever-passing Fates Wore out the stone, strange hermit birds croaked forth [heights Sorrowful sounds; like watchers on the Crying the hours of ruin, when the clouds Dressed every myrtle on the walls in mourning. With calm prerogative the eternal pile Impassive shone with the unearthly light Of immortality. When conquering suns Triumphed in jubilant earth, it stood out dark [captive With thoughts of ages: like some mighty Upon his death-bed in a Christian land, And lying, through the chant of psalm and creed, [brow, Unshriven and stern, with peace upon his And on his lips strange gods. Rank weeds and grasses Careless and nodding grew, and asked no leave, Where Romans trembled. Where the wreck was saddest, Sweet pensive herbs, that had been gay elsewhere, [still, With conscious mien of place, rose tall and And bent with duty. Like some village children Who found a dead king on a battle-field, And with decorous care and reverend pity Composed the lordly ruin, and sat down, Grave without tears. At length the giant lay, And everywhere he was begirt with years, And everywhere the torn and mouldering Past Hung him with ivy. For Time, smit with honour Of what he slew, cast his own mantle on him, That none should mock the dead. 1 And lost-and lo, in vapour furled, Rave on, thou far-resounding deep, Black chaos swims before him, spread Yet, proud One! could the loftiest day Of calmest lip and eye The hell that wars and works below- The white dawn crimsoned into morn, And still o'er ocean's kindling flood While round him awed and silent stood He lives, perchance, the past again, From the fierce hour when first On the astounded hearts of men His meteor presence burst; When blood-besotted Anarchy Sank, quelled, amid the glare Of thy far-sweeping musketry, Fame-fraught Vendémiaire! And darker thoughts oppress him now— Whose faith, as beauteous as her brow, And white-lipped Rout and wolfish War Oh for the sulphurous eve of June, Now would he pause, and quit their side Nor king-like share with desperate pride Their vainly glorious charge? No-gladly forward he would dash Amid that onset on, Where blazing shot and sabre-crash Girt by his heaped and slaughtered host. Enough:-in noontide's yellow light Even as his kingdom's shattered might Save when his spirit-shaking story, Warms some pale minstrel with his glory ·:0: G. WALTER THORNBURY. 1828-1876. THE OLD GRENADIER'S STORY. 'TWAS the day beside the Pyramids,— The Mamelukes were tossing Their standards to the sky, When I heard a child's voice say, "My men, Teach me the way to die!" 'Twas a little drummer, with his side But still he feebly beat his drum, He said, O men of the Forty-third, "My mother has got other sons, With stouter hearts than mine, But none more ready blood for France To pour out free as wine. Yet still life's sweet," the brave lad moaned, Then, with a shout that flew to God, I saw their red plumes join and wave, The last who went-a wounded man- I never saw so sad a look As the poor youngster cast, When the hot smoke of cannon In cloud and whirlwind passed. Earth shook, and heaven answered. I watched his eagle eye As he faintly moaned, "The Forty-third Teach me the way to die!" Then, with a musket for a crutch, I, with a bullet in my hip, Had neither strength nor might. I heard him moan, "The Forty-third They found him on the morrow, 'Tis forty years from then till now, And from my sleep I sometimes wake, And a voice that says, "Now, Forty-third, EDWARD ATHERSTONE. behold SUNRISE. SOON I began with eager foot to climb The high cliff, from whose top I might [grass The glorious spectacle. The short soft Had caught a plenteous dew: the mountain herbs [long Repaid my rude tread with sweet fragrance: The ascent and steep; and often did I pause To breathe and look around on the rich vales And swelling hills, each moment brightening. Thus with alternate toil and rest I climbed To the high summit, then walked gently on, Till by the cliff's precipitous edge I stood. Oh, then what glories burst upon my sight! The interminable ocean lay beneath At depth immense ;-not quiet as before, For a faint breath of air, even at the height On which I stood I scarce felt, played over it, Waking innumerous dimples on its face, As though 'twere conscious of the splendid guest That e'en then touched the threshold of heaven's gates, And smiled to bid him welcome. Far away To either hand the broad curved beach stretched on ; [vance And I could see the slow-paced waves adOne after one, and spread upon the sands, Making a slender edge of pearly foam Just as they broke;-then softly falling back, Noiseless to me on that tall head of rock, As it had been a picture, or descried Through optic tubes leagues off. A tender mist Was round the horizon and along the vales; But the hill-tops stood in a crystal air; The cope of heaven was clear and deeply blue, [east And not a cloud was visible. Towards the A dazzling point emerges from the sea; Of light and fire, it rests upon the rim Exulting I stretched forth my arms, And hailed the king of summer. Every hill |