That, as I were double-eyed,
He, in whom our Tribes confide,
Is descried, ways untried
As I ride, as I ride.

II.

As I ride, as I ride

To our Chief and his Allied,
Who dares chide my heart's pride
As I ride, as I ride?

Or are witnesses denied

Through the desert waste and wide
Do I glide unespied

As I ride, as I ride?

III.

As I ride, as I ride,

When an inner voice has cried,

The sands slide, nor abide

(As I ride, as I ride)

O'er each visioned homicide

That came vaunting (has he lied ?)

To reside-where he died,

As I ride, as I ride.

IV.

As I ride, as I ride,

Ne'er has spur my swift horse plied,
Yet his hide, streaked and pied,

As I ride, as I ride,

Shows where sweat has sprung and dried,

-Zebra-footed, ostrich-thighed

How has vied stride with stride

As I ride, as I ride!

V.

As I ride, as I ride,

Could I loose what Fate has tied,

Ere I pride, she should hide

(As I ride, as I ride)

All that's meant me--satisfied

When the Prophet and the Bride

Stop veins I'd have subside
As I ride, as I ride!

INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP.

I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:

A mile or so away

On a little mound, Napoleon

Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,

Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

II.

Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,

Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,”--

Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound

Full-galloping; nor bridle drew

Until he reached the mound.

III.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect

By just his horse's mane, a boy;
You hardly could suspect--
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)

You looked twice ere you saw his breast

Was all but shot in two.

IV.

"Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace

We've got you Ratisbon !

The Marshal's in the market-place,
And you'll be there anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans

Where I, to heart's desire,

Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed: his plans

Soared up again like fire.

V.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently

Softened itself, as sheathes

A film the mother-eagle's eye

When her bruised eaglet breathes

Touched to the quick, he said,

"I'm killed, Sire!" And his chief beside, Smiling, the boy fell dead.

THE LOST LEADER.

I.

JUST for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat-
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others, she lets us devote;

They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!

Rags-were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honored him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,

Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!

Shakspere was of us, Milton was for us,

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 through his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,-not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done, -while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire;
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
One more devil's-triumph and sorrow for angels,

One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain,
Forced praise on our part--the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!

Best fight on well, for we taught him-strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we master his own;

Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!

I SEND my heart up to thee, all my heart
In this my singing.

For the stars help me, and the sea bears part;

The very night is clinging

Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space

Above me, whence thy face

May light my joyous heart to thee its dwelling-place. She speaks.

Say after me, and try to say

My very words, as if each word

Came from you of your own accord,

In your own voice, in your own way:

"This woman's heart and soul and brain
Are mine as much as this gold chain
She bids me wear; which" (say again)
"I choose to make by cherishing
A precious thing, or choose to fling
Over the boat-side, ring by ring."

And yet once more say . . . no word more!
Since words are only words. Give o'er!
Unless you call me, all the same,

Familiarly by my pet name,

Which if the Three should hear you call,
And me reply to, would proclaim

At once our secret to them all.

Ask of me, too, command me, blame-
Do, break down the partition-wall
'Twixt us, the daylight world beholds
Curtained in dusk and splendid folds!