The treasure proudly did I show To some whose minds without disdain Can turn to little things; but once Looked up for it in vain : 'Tis gone-a ruthless spoiler's prey, Who heeds not beauty, love, or song, 'Tis gone! (so seemed it) and we grieved, Indignant at the wrong. Just three days after, passing by In clearer light, the moss-built cell The primrose for a veil had spread Concealed from friends who might disturb Thy quiet with no ill intent, Secure from evil eyes and hands On barbarous plunder bent, Rest, mother-bird! and when thy young Take flight, and thou art free to roam, When withered is the guardian flower, And empty thy late home, Think how ye prospered, thou and thine, Amid the unviolated grove, Housed near the growing primrose tuft In foresight, or in love. W. Wordsworth XXIV A FINE DAY Clear had the day been from the dawn, Thin clouds like scarfs of cobweb lawn The wind had no more strength than this, To make one leaf the next to kiss That closely by it grew. M. Drayton XXV CASABIANCA A True Story The boy stood on the burning deck The flame that lit the battle's wreck The flames roll'd on. He would not go He called aloud: 'Say, father, say He knew not that the chieftain lay 'Speak, father!' once again he cried, And but the booming shots replied, Upon his brow he felt their breath, And look'd from that lone post of death And shouted but once more aloud, 'My father! must I stay?' While o'er him fast through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They wrapt the ship in splendour wild, And streamed above the gallant child Then came a burst of thunder-sound- With fragments strewed the sea, With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, F. Hemans XXVI SIGNS OF RAIN The hollow winds begin to blow, The frog has changed his yellow vest, Though June, the air is cold and still, 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. |