{86}
The Volunteer
"He leapt to arms unbidden,
Unneeded, over-bold;
His face by earth is hidden,
His heart in earth is cold.
"Curse on the reckless daring
That could not wait the call,
The proud fantastic bearing
That would be first to fall!"
O tears of human passion,
Blur not the image true;
This was not folly's fashion,
This was the man we knew.
{87}
The Only Son
O bitter wind toward the sunset blowing,
What of the dales to-night?
In yonder gray old hall what fires are glowing,
What ring of festal light?
"In the great window as the day was dwindling
I saw an old man stand;
His head was proudly held and his eyes kindling,
But the list shook in his hand."
O wind of twilight, was there no word uttered,
No sound of joy or wail?
"'A great fight and a good death,' he muttered;
'Trust him, he would not fail.'"