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Over all the meadow's drowning flowers,
I salute thee, Mantovano, I that loved
thee since my day began, Wielder of the stateliest measure ever moulded by the lips of man.
TO VIRGIL 1
“FRATER AVE ATQUE VALE”
ROMAN VIRGIL, thou that singest Ilion's
lofty temples robed in fire, Ilion falling, Rome arising, wars, and
filial faith, and Dido's pyre;
Row us out from Desenzano, to your
Sirmione row ! So they row'd, and there we landed—“O
venusta Sirmio!" There to me thro' all the groves of olive
in the summer glow, There beneath the Roman ruin where the
purple flowers grow, Came that “Ave atque Vale” of the
Poet's hopeless woe, Tenderest of Roman poets nineteen
hundred years ago * Frater Ave atque Vale".
wander'd to and fro Gazing at the Lydian laughter of the
Garda Lake below Sweet Catullus's all-but-island, olivesilvery Sirmio !
Thou that singest wheat and woodland,
tilth and vineyard, hive and horse
and herd; All the charm of all the Muses
often flowering in a lonely word ;
Poet of the happy Tityrus piping under
neath his beechen bowers; Poet of the poet-satyr whom the laugh
ing shepherd bound with flowers ;
EPILOGUE TO THE CHARGE OF
THE HEAVY BRIGADE
Chanter of the Pollio, glorying in the
blissful years again to be, Summers of the snakeless meadow, un
laborious earth and oarless sea ;
And here the Singer for his art
Not all in vain may plead “ The song that nerves a nation's heart Is in itself a deed."
Thou that seest Universal Nature moved
by Universal Mind; Thou majestic in thy sadness at the
doubtful doom of human kind;
Light among the vanish'il ages; star
that gildest yet this phantom top shore; Golden branch amid the shadows, kings
and realms that pass to rise no more;
Now thy Forum roars no longer, fallen
every purple Cæsar's domeTho' thine ocean-roll of rhythm sound
forever of Imperial Rome
MANY a hearth upon our dark globe sighs
after many a vanish'd face, Many a planet by many a sun may roll
with the dust of a vanish'd race. Raving politics, never at rest-as this
poor earth's pale history runs.What is it all but a trouble of ants in the
gleam of a million million of suns? Lies upon this side, lies upon that side,
truthless violence mourn'd by the
wise, Thousands of voices drowning his own
in a popular torrent of lies upon
lies; Stately purposes, valor in battle, glorious
annals of army and fleet, Death for the right cause, death for the
wrong cause, trumpets of victory, groans of defeat;
Now the Rome of slaves hath perish'd,
and the Rome of freemen holds her
place, I, from out the Northern Island sunder'd
once from all the human race,
1" To Virgil was written at the request of the Mantuans for the nineteenth centenary of Virgil's Death." (Life of Tennyson, II, 320.)
Innocence seethed in her mother's milk,
and Charity setting the martyr
aflame; Thraldom who walks with the banner of
Freedom, and recks not to ruin a realm in her name.
He that has lived for the lust of the
minute, and died in the doing it,
flesh without mind; He that has nail'd all flesh to the Cross,
till Self died out in the love of his kind;
Faith at her zenith, or all but lost in the
gloom of doubts that darken the
schools ; Craft with a bunch of all-heal in her
hand, follow'd up by her vassal legion of fools;
Spring and Summer and Autumn and
Winter, and all these old revolu
tions of earth ; All new-old revolutions of Empire
change of the tide-what is all of it worth?
What the philosophies, all the sciences,
poesy, varying voices of prayer, All that is noblest, all that is basest, all
that is filthy with all that is fair?
What is it all, if we all of us end but in
being our own corpse-coffins at
last? Swallow'd in Vastness, lost in Silence,
drown'd in the deeps of a meaningless Past?
What but a murmur of gnats in the
gloom, or a moment's anger of bees in their hive?
Peace, let it be! for I loved him, and
love him for ever: the dead are not dead but alive.
Trade flying over a thousand seas with
her spice and her vintage, her silk
and her cor ; Desolate offing, sailorless harbors, fam
ishing populace, wharves forlorn ; Star of the morning, Hope in the sun
rise ; gloom of the evening, Life
at a close ; Pleasure who flaunts on her wide down
way with her flying robe and her
poison'd rose; | Pain that has crawld from the corpse of
Pleasure, a worm which writhes
all day, and at night Stirs up again in the heart of the sleeper,
and stings him back to the curse
of the light; Wealth with his wines and his wedded
harlots ; honest Poverty, bare to
the bone; Opulent Avarice, lean as Poverty ; Flat
tery gilding the rift in a throne ; Fame blowing out from her golden trum
pet a jubilant challenge to Time
and to Fate ; Slander, her shadow, sowing the nettle
on all the laurellid graves of the
great ; Love for the maiden, crown'd with mar
riage, no regrets for aught that
has been, Household happiness, gracious children,
debtless competence, golden mean; National hatreds of whole generations,
and pigmy spites of the village
spire; Vows that will last to the last death
ruckle, and vows that are snapted in a moment of fire;
MERLIN AND THE GLEAMI
Mighty the Wizard
And all around me, Moving to melody, Floated the Gleain.
Once at the croak of a Raven who
Then to the melody,
Clouds and darkness
Silent and slowly
Out of the glimmer,
Down from the mountain And over the level, And streaming and shining on Silent river, Silvery willow, Pasture and plowland, Innocent maidens, Garrulous children, Homestead and harvest, Reaper and gleaner, und rougi-ruddy faces
lowly labor, pled the Gleam
Then, with a melody
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the
boundless deep Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark ! And may there be no sadness of
well, When I embark ;
THE THROSTLE SUMMER is coming, summer is coming.
I know it, I know it, I know it. ght again, leaf again, life again, love
again ! " Yes, my wild little Poet. ng the new year in under the blue.
Last year you sang it as gladly. New, new, new, new!” Is it then so
That you should carol so madly? Love again, song again, nest again,
young again, Never a prophet w crazy! ind hardly a daisy as yet, little friend,
See, there is hardly a daisy. Here again, here, here, here, happy
For tho' from out our bourne of Time
and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar. 1889.
1" Crossing the Bar was written in my father's eighty-first year, on a day in October. ;
I said, ' That is the crown of your life's work ;' he answered, 'It came in a moment.'
Не еxplained the ‘Pilot' as 'That Divine and Unseen Who is always guiding us.'
* A few days before his death he said to me: Mind you put Crossing the Bar at the end of all editions of iny poems. (Life of Tennyson, II., 367.)
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
LIST OF REFERENCES
Poetical Works, edited by C. Porter and II. Clarke, 6 volumes, Crowell ; Poetical Works, 5 volumes, Dodd, Mead & Co.; 6 volumes, Scribner's; Cambridge Edition, 1 volume, Houghton, Mifflin & Co.; * Globe Ertition, 1 volume, The Macmillan Co. Letters, edited by F. G. Kenyon, 2 volumes. The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, 2 volumes.
* KENYON (F. G.), Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, edited with biographical additions. HORNE (R. HI.), Life and Letters of Mrs. Brown
H. ing. INGRAM (J. II.), Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Famous Women Series). See also L'Estrange's Life of M. R. Mitford, and The Friendships of M. R. Mitford ; The Letters of M. R. Mitford; Macpherson's Memoirs of Anna Jameson ; and Forster's Life of Landor.
REMINISCENCES AND EARLY CRITICISM
HORNE (R. II.), A New Spirit of the Age, 1844. RITCHIE (Anne Thackeray), Records of Tennyson, Ruskin, Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning * MITFORD (M. R.), Recollections of a Literary Life. COLERIDGE (Sara), Memoirs and Letters, Vol. I, Chap. 12 (letter of 1844 to John Kenyon); Vol. II, Chap. 12 (letter of 1851 to Ellis Yarnall). BAYNE (Peter), Essays in Biography and Criticism (1st Series): Mrs. Barrett Browning. Roscoe (W. C.), Poems and Essays, Vol. II. Ossoli (Mar
Fuller), Art, Literature and the Drama. PoE (E. A.), Works, Vol. 1890). HAWTHORNE, Italian Note-books. HILLARD (G. S.), Six
us in Italy. * W. W. STORY and his Friends, edited by Henry James.
BENSON (A. C.), Essays: Elizabeth Barrett Browning. CHESTERTON (G. K.), Twelve Types. DARMESTETER (Mary J.), Ménage de Poètes; in the Revue de Paris, Vol. 5, p. 295 and p. 788. * GOSSE (E. W.), Critical Kit-Kats: The Sonnets from the Portuguese, etc. MUSAND (J.), Littérature anglaise et philosophie. MONTEGUT (Emile), Ecrivains modernes de l’Angleterre, Vol. II. SCHtYLER (E.), Italian Influences. * STEDMAN (E. C.), Victorian Poets. TEXTE (Joseph), Etudes de littérature européene. Taylor (Bayard), At Home and Abroad.