The frog has changed his yellow vest, Quits mutton-bones on grass to feast; Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow. E. Jenner XXVII HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; 'Good speed!' cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; 'Speed!' echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 'Twas moonset at starting; but, while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime, So Joris broke silence with, 'Yet there is time!' At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence,-ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, ‘Stay spur ! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix'-for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Loos and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; Till over by Dalhem a dome-tower sprang white, 'How they'll greet us!' and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast my loose buff-coat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is friends flocking round As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground, And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news R. Browning from Ghent. XXVIII THE RAINBOW A fragment of a rainbow bright An hour ago the storm was here, Grief will be joy if on its edge Joy will be grief if no faint pledge 7. Keble XXIX THE RAVEN AND THE OAK Underneath an old oak tree There was of swine a huge company, That grunted as they crunch'd the mast: For that was ripe and fell full fast. Then they trotted away, for the wind it grew high: One acorn they left and no more might you spy. Next came a Raven that liked not such folly: He belonged, they did say, to the witch Melancholy! Blacker was he than blackest jet, Flew low in the rain and his feathers not wet. He went high and low, Over hill, over dale, did the black Raven go. I can't tell half his adventures. At length he came back, and with him a she, At length he brought down the poor Raven's old oak. His young ones were killed, for they could not depart, And their mother did die of a broken heart. The boughs from the trunk the woodman did sever; And they floated it down on the course of the river. They sawed it in planks, and its bark they did strip, And with this tree and others they made a good ship. |