Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn ! The distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn ! And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges, And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn ! Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild incantations, Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of Lynn ! And startled at the sight, like the weird woman of Endor, Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of Lynn ! CHAUCER AN old man in a lodge within a park; And the hurt deer. He listeneth to the comes with the sunshine through the dark Of painted glass in leaden lattice bound; MILTON I PACE the sounding sea-beach and behold How the voluminous billows roll and run, Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun Shines through their sheeted emerald far unrolled, And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold All its loose-flowing garments into one, So in majestic cadence rise and fall NATURE As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Still gazing at them through the open door, So Nature deals with us, and takes away WAPENTAKE TO ALFRED TENNYSON POET! I come to touch thy lance with mine; Not as a knight, who on the listed field Of homage to the mastery, which is thine, Art thou, O sweet historian of the heart! A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET OCTOBER, 1746 MR. THOMAS PRINCE loquitur A FLEET with flags arrayed Sailed from the port of Brest, And the Admiral's ship displayed The signal: "Steer southwest." For this Admiral D'Anville Had sworn by cross and crown To ravage with fire and steel Our helpless Boston Town. There were rumors in the street, In the houses there was fear Of the coming of the fleet, And the danger hovering near. And while from mouth to mouth Spread the tidings of dismay, I stood in the Old South, Saying humbly: "Let us pray! "O Lord! we would not advise; But if in thy Providence A tempest should arise To drive the French Fleet hence, And scatter it far and wide, Or sink it in the sea, We should be satisfied, This was the prayer I made, For my soul was all on flame, And even as I prayed The answering tempest came; It came with a mighty power, Shaking the windows and walls, And tolling the bell in the tower, As it tolls at funerals. The lightning suddenly Unsheathed its flaming sword, And I cried: "Stand still, and see The salvation of the Lord!" The heavens were black with cloud, The sea was white with hail, And ever more fierce and loud Blew the October gale. The fleet it overtook, And the broad sails in the van Like the tents of Cushan shook, Or the curtains of Midian. Down on the reeling decks Like a potter's vessel broke The great ships of the line; They were carried away as a smoke, Or sank like lead in the brine. O Lord! before thy path They vanished and ceased to be, When thou didst walk in wrath With thine horses through the sea! JUGURTHA How cold are thy baths, Apollo ! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his death in the hollow Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo ! How cold are thy baths, Apollo ! Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, As the vision, that lured him to follow, With the mist and the darkness blended And the dream of his life was ended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo ! THE TIDE RISES, THE TIDE FALLS THE tide rises, the tide falls, Darkness settles on roofs and walls, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls. The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; And the tide rises, the tide falls. HER ways were gentle while a babe, A holy smile was on her lip Whenever sleep was there; She slept, as sleeps the blossom, hushed Amid the silent air. And ere she left with tottling steps The low-roofed cottage door, With wing of gauze and mailed coat And everywhere the child was traced No loneliness young Eva knew, The joyous bird upon the wing, Much dwelt she on the green hill-side, She loved all simple flowers that spring The opening bud that lightly swung She saw that pearly fingers oped Each tiny leaf became a scroll A lesson that around the heart Should keep the dew of youth, Bright missals from angelic throngs In every byway left: How were the earth of glory shorn, Were it of flowers bereft ! Young Eva said all noisome weeds THE DROWNED MARINER A MARINER sat on the shrouds one night; The wind was piping free; Now bright, now dimmed was the moonlight pale, And the phosphor gleamed in the wake of the whale, As he floundered in the sea; The scud was flying athwart the sky, The gathering winds went whistling by, And the wave as it towered, then fell in spray, Looked an emerald wall in the moonlight ray. The mariner swayed and rocked on the mast, But the tumult pleased him well; Down the yawning wave his eye he cast, And the monsters watched as they hurried past Or lightly rose and fell; For their broad, damp fins were under the tide, And they lashed as they passed the vessel's side, And their filmy eyes, all huge and grim, Glared fiercely up, and they glared at him. Now freshens the gale, and the brave ship goes Like an uncurbed steed along; A sheet of flame is the spray she throws, |