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She could not keep the narrow way,
For still the little feet would stray,
And ever must he bend t'undo
The tangled grasses from her shoe,-
From dainty rosebud lips in pout
Must kiss the perfect flower out!

Ah! little coquette! Fair deceit !
Some things are bitter that were sweet.

DEAD.

I.

SOMETHING lies in the room
Over against my own;

The windows are lit with a ghastly bloom

Of candles, burning alone,

Untrimmed, and all aflare

In the ghastly silence there!

11.

People go by the door,

Tip-toe, holding their breath,

And hush the talk they held before,
Lest they should waken Death,

That is awake all night

There in the candle light!

III.

The cat upon the stairs

Watches with flamy eye,

For the sleepy one who shall unawares
Let her go stealing by.

She softly, softly purrs,
And claws at the banisters.

IV.

The bird from out its dream

Breaks with a sudden song,

That stabs the sense like a sudden scream;
The hound the whole night long

Howls to the moonless sky,

So far, and starry, and high,

THE POETS FRIENDS.

THE robin sings in the elm;
The cattle stand beneath,

Sedate and grave, with great brown eyes
And fragrant meadow-breath.

They listened to the flattered bird,
The wise-looking, stupid things;
And they never understand a word
Of all the robin sings.

AVERY.

NIAGARA, 1853.

I.

ALL night long they heard, in the house beside the shore, Heard, or seemed to hear, through the multitudinous roar, Out of the hell of the rapids as 'twere a lost soul's cries,Heard and could not believe; and the morning mocked

their eyes,

Showing, where wildest and fiercest the waters leaped up and ran

Raving, round him and past, the visage of a man,

She could not keep the narrow way,
For still the little feet would stray,
And ever must he bend t'undo
The tangled grasses from her shoe,—
From dainty rosebud lips in pout
Must kiss the perfect flower out!

Ah! little coquette! Fair deceit !
Some things are bitter that were sweet.

DEAD.

I.

SOMETHING lies in the room

Over against my own;

The windows are lit with a ghastly bloom

Of candles, burning alone,

Untrimmed, and all aflare

In the ghastly silence there!

11.

People go by the door,

Tip-toe, holding their breath,
And hush the talk they held before,
Lest they should waken Death,
That is awake all night

There in the candle light!

III.

The cat upon the stairs

Watches with flamy eye,

For the sleepy one who shall unawares

Let her go stealing by.

She softly, softly purrs,
And claws at the banisters.

IV.

The bird from out its dream

Breaks with a sudden song,

That stabs the sense like a sudden scream;
The hound the whole night long

Howls to the moonless sky,

So far, and starry, and high,

THE POETS FRIENDS.

THE robin sings in the elm;
The cattle stand beneath,
Sedate and grave, with great brown eyes
And fragrant meadow-breath.

They listened to the flattered bird,
The wise-looking, stupid things;
And they never understand a word
Of all the robin sings.

AVERY.

NIAGARA, 1853.

I.

ALL night long they heard, in the house beside the shore, Heard, or seemed to hear, through the multitudinous roar, Out of the hell of the rapids as 'twere a lost soul's cries,— Heard and could not believe; and the morning mocked

their eyes,

Showing, where wildest and fiercest the waters leaped up and ran

Raving, round him and past, the visage of a man,

Clinging, or seeming to cling, to the trunk of a tree that caught,

Fast in the rocks below, scarce out of the surges raught, Was it a life, could it be, to yon slender hope that clung? Shrill, above all the tumult the answering terror rung. Under the weltering rapids a boat from the bridge is drowned

Over the rocks the lines of another are tangled and wound;

And the long fateful hours of the morning have wasted

soon,

As it had been some blessed trance, and now it is noon, Hurry, now with the raft! But O build it strong and

staunch,

And to the lines and treacherous rocks look well as you launch!

Over the foamy tops of the waves, and their foam-sprent sides,

Over the hidden reefs, and through the embattled tides Onward rushes the raft, with many a lurch and a leapLord! if it strike him loose from the hold he scarce can keep!

No through all peril unharmed, it reaches him harmless at last,

And to its proven strength he lashes his weakness fast.

II.

Now, for the shore! But steady, steady, my men, and

slow;

Taut now the quivering lines; now slack, and so, let her go!

Thronging the shores around stand the pitying multitude;

Wan as his own are their looks, and a nightmare seems to brood

Heavy upon them, and heavy the silence hangs on all, Save for the rapid's plunge, and the thunder of the fall

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