'Such the turn,' said I, 'the matter takes with you? Then I abate act my estimate. No, by not one jot nor tittle,-of your 225 enoughCall it desperation, madness-never mind! for here 's in rough Why, had mine been such a trial, fear had overcome disgrace. True, disgrace were hard to bear; but such rush against God's face None of that for me, Lord Plassy, since I go to church at times, Say the creed my mother taught me! Many years in foreign climes 230 Rub some marks away—not all, though! We poor sinners reach life's brink, Overlook what rolls beneath it, recklessly enough, but think There's advantage in what's left us-ground to stand on, time to call 66 Lord, have mercy!" ere we topple over-do not leap, that's all!' 234 Oh, he made no answer, re-absorbed into his cloud. I caught Something like 'Yes-courage: only fools will call it fear.' If aught Comfort you, my great unhappy hero Clive, in that I heard Next week, how your own hand dealt you doom, and uttered just the word 'Fearfully courageous!'-this, be sure, and nothing else I groaned. I'm no Clive, nor parson either: Clive's worst deed-we 'll hope condoned. 240 'HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX.' [16-] I. I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; 'Good speed!' cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; 'Speed!' echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace 5 ΙΟ III. "T was moonset at starting; but while we drew near 15 IV. At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, 20 V. And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 25 30 VI. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris 'Stay spur! As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. 35 VII. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; 40 Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And 'Gallop,' gasped Joris, 'for Aix is in sight! VIII. How they'll greet us!'-and all in a moment fus roan IX. Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall, 45 50 Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. X. And all I remember is, friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; 55 Was no more than his due who brought good news from THE LOST LEADER. I. JUST for a handful of silver he left us, Rags were they purple, his heart had been proud! Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves! He alone breaks from the van and the freemen, He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves! II. We shall march prospering,-not thro' his presence; One more devil's-triumph and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! 15 20 |