English

Close now thine eyes, and rest secure;
Thy Soule is safe enough; thy Body sure;
He that loves thee, he that keepes
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleepes.
The smiling Conscience in a sleeping breast
Has only peace, has only rest:
The musicke and the mirth of Kings,
Are all but very Discords, when she sings:
Then close thine Eyes and rest secure;
No Sleepe so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.

" COME a little nearer, Doctor, — thank you, — let me take the cup: "
Draw your chair up, — draw it closer, — just another little sup!
May be you may think I'm better; but I'm pretty well used up: —
Doctor, you've done all you could do, but I'm just a going up!

" Feel my pulse, sir, if you want to, but it ain't much use to try: " —
" Never say that, " said the Surgeon as he smothered down a sigh;
" It will never do, old comrade, for a soldier to say die! "

(A Scholar is musing on his want of success.)

T O strive — and fail. Yes, I did strive and fail
I set mine eyes upon a certain night
To find a certain star — and could not hail
With them its deep-set light.

Fool that I was! I will rehearse my fault:
I, wingless, thought myself on high to lift
Among the winged — I set these feet that halt
To run against the swift.

And yet this man, that loved me so, can write —
That loves me, I would say, can let me see;
Or fain would have me think he counts but light

A COLD coiled line of mottled lead,
He lies where grazing cattle tread,
And lifts a fanged and spiteful head.

His touch is deadly and his eyes
Are hot with hatred and surprise —
Death waits and watches where he lies!

His hate is turned toward everything!
He is the undisputed king
Of every path and woodland spring.

His naked fang is raised to smite
All passing things; light
Is not swifter than his bite.

His touch is deadly, and his eyes
Are hot with hatred and surprise —

Chloris farewell, I now must go
For if with thee I here do stay
Thine eyes prevaile upon me so,
I shall grow blind and lose my way.

Fame of thy Beauty and thy Youth,
Among the rest me hither brought,
Finding this fame fall short of truth,
Made me stay longer than I thought.

For I'm engag'd by word and oath
A servant to another's will;
Yet for thy love would forfeit both,
Could I be sure to keepe it still.

But what assurance can I take,
When thou fore-knowing this abuse,

A cloud possessed the hollow field,
The gathering battle's smoky shield.
Athwart the gloom the lightning flashed,
And through the cloud some horsemen dashed,
And from the heights the thunder pealed.
Then at the brief command of Lee
Moved out that matchless infantry,
With Pickett leading grandly down,
To rush against the roaring crown
Of those dread heights of destiny.

Far heard above the angry guns
A cry across the tumult runs,--
The voice that rang through Shiloh's woods
And Chickamauga's solitudes,

Close on the edge of a midsummer dawn
In troubled dreams I went from land to land,
Each seven-colored like the rainbow's are,
Regions where never fancy's foot had trod
Till then; yet all the strangeness seemed not strange,
At which I wondered, reasoning in my dream
With two-fold sense, well knowing that I slept.
At last I came to this our cloud-hung earth,
And somewhere by the seashore was a grave,
A woman's grave, new-made, and heaped with flowers;
And near it stood an ancient holy man

" COME ! " said Old Shellover.
" What?" says Creep.
" The horny old Gardener's fast asleep;
The fat cock Thrush
To his nest has gone;
And the dew shines bright
In the rising Moon;
Old Sallie Worm from her hole doth peep:
Come!" said Old Shellover.
" Ay!" said Creep.

The Shortest and Sweetest of Songs
Come
home.

Come leave the loathed stage,
And the more loathsome age,
Where pride and impudence in faction knit
Usurp the chair of wit:
Indicting and arraigning every day,
Something they call a play.
Let their fastidious, vain
Commission of the brain,
Run on and rage, sweat, censure, and condemn:
They were not made for thee, less thou for them.

Say that thou pourest 'em wheat,
And they would acorns eat:
'Twere simple fury, still thyself to waste
On such as have no taste,
To offer them a surfeit of bread,