1 In that hour of deep contrition All the pomp of earth had vanished, Every vassal of his banner, All those wronged and wretched creatures, By his hand were freed again. And, as on the sacred missal Death relaxed his iron features, And the monk replied, "Amen!" Many centuries have been numbered But the good deed, through the ages, HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE WARDEN OF THE CINQUE PORTS. A MIST was driving down the British Channel, And through the window-panes, on floor and panel, It glanced on flowing flag and rippling pennon, And, from the frowning rampart, the black cannon Sandwich and Romney, Hastings, Hithe, and Dover To see the French war-steamers speeding over, Sullen and silent, and like couchant lions, Holding their breath, had watched, in grim defiance, And now they roared at drum-beat from their stations, Each answering each, with morning salutations, And down the coast, all taking up the burden, As if to summon from his sleep the Warden Him shall no sunshine from the fields of azure, No morning-gun from the black fort's embrasure, Awaken with its call! No more, surveying with an eye impartial Shall the gaunt figure of the old Field Marshal For in the night, unseen, a single warrior, Dreaded of man, and surnamed the Destroyer, He passed into the chamber of the sleeper, And as he entered, darker grew, and deeper, He did not pause to parley or dissemble, Ah! what a blow! that made all England tremble Meanwhile, without, the surly cannon waited, That a great man was dead. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGfellow. HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX. [16-.] 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. 'T was 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 Düffield, 't was morning as plain as could be; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the halfchime, So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" At Aershot, 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 Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff: Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprung white, "How they'll greet us!". and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. |