She could not keep the narrow way, Ah! little coquette! Fair deceit ! DEAD. I. SOMETHING lies in the room 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, 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 She softly, softly purrs, IV. The bird from out its dream Breaks with a sudden song, That stabs the sense like a sudden scream; Howls to the moonless sky, So far, and starry, and high, THE POETS FRIENDS. THE robin sings in the elm; Sedate and grave, with great brown eyes They listened to the flattered bird, 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, Ah! little coquette! Fair deceit ! 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, 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, IV. The bird from out its dream Breaks with a sudden song, That stabs the sense like a sudden scream; Howls to the moonless sky, So far, and starry, and high, THE POETS FRIENDS. THE robin sings in the elm; They listened to the flattered bird, 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 |