Thus piteously Love closed what he begat:
The union of this ever-diverse pair!
These two were rapid falcons in a snare,
Condemned to do the flitting of the bat.
Lovers beneath the singing sky of May,
They wandered once; clear as the dew on flowers:
But they fed not on the advancing hours:
Their hearts held cravings for the buried day.
Then each applied to each that fatal knife,
Deep questioning, which probes to endless dole.
Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul
When hot for certainties in this our life!—
In tragic hints here see what evermore
Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean’s force,
Thundering like ramping hosts of warrior horse,
To throw that faint thin fine upon the shore!
THE PATRIOT ENGINEER
‘Sirs! may I shake your hands?
My countrymen, I see!
I’ve lived in foreign lands
Till England’s Heaven to me.
A hearty shake will do me good,
And freshen up my sluggish blood.’
Into his hard right hand we struck,
Gave the shake, and wish’d him luck.
‘—From Austria I come,
An English wife to win,
And find an English home,
And live and die therein.
Great Lord! how many a year I’ve pined
To drink old ale and speak my mind!’
Loud rang our laughter, and the shout
Hills round the Meuse-boat echoed about.
‘—Ay, no offence: laugh on,
Young gentlemen: I’ll join.
Had you to exile gone,
Where free speech is base coin,
You’d sigh to see the jolly nose
Where Freedom’s native liquor flows!’
He this time the laughter led,
Dabbling his oily bullet head.
‘—Give me, to suit my moods,
An ale-house on a heath,
I’ll hand the crags and woods
To B’elzebub beneath.
A fig for scenery! what scene
Can beat a Jackass on a green?’
Gravely he seem’d, with gaze intense,
Putting the question to common sense.