เ CCXIX DAMPIER'S DREAM THE seaman slept-all nature sleeps; a sacred stillness there Is on the wood-is on the waves-is in the silver air. The sky above-the silent sea-with stars were all aglow; There shone Orion and his belt-Arcturus and his bow! The seaman slept-or does he sleep? what chorus greets him now?— Wild music breaking from the deep around the vessel's bow? He starts, he looks, he sees rise shadowy-can he only dream? A sovereign form, wrathful, yet beauteous-in the moon's cold beam! Mortal, hath fallen my star in the hour Of the dread eclipse, that thou scornest my power? Herald thus soon of that mystic race Fated to reign in my people's place, Bringing arts of might-working wondrous spells The Spirit of this zone am I Mine are the isles and yon mainlands nigh; And roused from my rest by the wood-wraith's sigh, And the sea-maid's moan on the coral reef- Here at the gate of my South Sea realm Not yet is the time Woe-bringer, go back to thy cloud-wrapped clime! When gleam the red swords and the death-bolts ring! Thy joy is with restless men and seas, What dost thou in scenes as soft as these? The hour is not yet, but the doom appears Thro' the clouds where the future's horizon lies; main; And clearer now-I behold more clear Great ships-sails swelling to the breeze, Their keels break all the virgin seas; Vast white-winged squadrons, they come and go As Venice of palaces, strong and sage; CCXX BY FLOOD AND FIELD I REMEMBER the lowering wintry morn, Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman's horn, Not far from the seven rills. Jack Esdale was there, and Hugh St. Clair, And big George Griffiths on Devil-May-Care, And one who rode on a dark brown steed, With the lean game head of the Blacklock breed, I remember how merry a start we got, I remember how few in the front rank show'd, On the brown hillside, where we cross'd the road The dark brown steed on the left was there, And between the pair on a chestnut mare What business had 'this child' there to ride? Yet I hold my own for awhile in the pride Though rashness can hope but for one result, We are heedless when fate draws nigh us, And the maxim holds good, Quem perdere vult Deus dementat prius.' The right-hand man to the left-hand said, That stretches before us yonder; For the stream runs wide on the take off side, Here goes for a pull, 'tis a madman's ride, No word in reply his comrade spoke, Nor waver'd, nor once look'd round, But I saw him shorten his horse's stroke As we splash'd through the marshy ground; I remember the laugh that all the while On his quiet features played: So he rode to his death, with that careless smile, So stricken by Russian grape, the cheer From the shattered lungs as merry and clear As it did when it roused the pack. Let never a tear his memory stain, One of the many who fell-not in vain- I remember one thrust he gave to his hat, And he shot to the front, hands down; And the laugh of the rider while, landing sound, Save a bird's-eye gleam of the dashing stream, A shock, and the blank of a nightmare's dream,-I was down with a stunning fall! Adam Lindsay Gordon. CCXXI FULFILMENT Aн, now we know the long delay To prove and make our title good- That tries the claim to Nationhood— O ye, our Dead, who at the call |