CARCASSONNE. (From the French of Gustave Nadaud.) M. E. W. SHERWOOD. How old I am! I'm eighty years! It almost seems a wrong. Alas, our dreams! they come not true; I thought to see fair Carcassonne ! I have not seen fair Carcassonne ! One sees it dimly from the height Fain would I walk five weary leagues - Through morn and evening's dew; But bitter frosts would fall at night, And on the grapes that yellow blight! I could not go to Carcassonne, I never went to Carcassonne. They say it is as gay all times The gentles ride in gay attire, The bishop the procession leads, Alas! I know not Carcassonne ! Alas! I saw not Carcassonne ! Our Vicar's right; he preaches loud, He says: O guard the weakest part, And most the traitor in the heart, Against ambition's snare!" Perhaps in autumn I can find Two sunny days with gentle wind; I then could go to Carcassonne, My God and Father! pardon me One sees some hope more high than he, To which his heart ascends ! My wife, my son, have seen Narbonne, My grandson went to Perpignan ; But I have not seen Carcassonne, But I have not seen Carcassonne. Thus sighed a peasant, bent with age, Half dreaming in his chair. I said, "My friend, come go with me To-morrow; these thine eyes shall see Those streets that seem so fair." That night there came, for passing soul, The church bell's low and solemn toll! He never saw gay Carcassonne. Who has not known a Carcassonne ? INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP. ROBERT BROWNING. 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, Just as, perhaps, he mused, "My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall," Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider bound on bound Full-galloping; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound. Then off there flung in smiling joy, By just his horse's mane, a boy : (So tight he kept his lips compressed, You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon ! 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. |