"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew ; "Speed!" echo'd the wall to us galloping through: Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we gallop'd abreast. II. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place: I turn'd in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shorten'd each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chain'd slacker the bit, Nor gallop'd less steadily Roland a whit. III. 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew, and twilight dawn'd clear ; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see At Düffel, 'twas morning as plain as could be ; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half chime, So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" IV. At Aerschot, up leap'd of a sudden the sun, V. And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other prick'd out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence,—ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. VI. By Hasselt, Dirck groan'd; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! Your Roos gallop'd bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix"-for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretch'd neck and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shudder'd and sank. VII. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, VIII. "How they'll greet us!"--and all in a moment his roan Roll'd neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; IX. Then I cast loose my buff coat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, lean'd, patted his ear, Call'd my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; Clapp'd my hands, laugh'd and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland gallop'd and stood. X. And all I remember is, friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground, WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. THE EVENING WIND. (WRITTEN IN NORTH AMERICA.) SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice,—thou spray, And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee To the scorch'd land, thou wanderer of the sea! Not I alone: a thousand bosoms round Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest; Summoning from the' innumerable boughs The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast. Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass, And 'twixt the' o'ershadowing branches and the grassThe faint old man shall lean his silver head To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And softly part his curtains to allow Go;-but the circle of eternal change, Which is the life of nature, shall restore, With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range, SONG OF THE STARS. WHEN the radiant morn of creation broke, Were moved through their depths by His mighty breath, And orbs of beauty, and spheres of flame, From the void abyss by myriads came; In the joy of youth, as they darted away, And this was the song the bright ones sung. "Away, away, through the wide, wide sky, Each sun, with the worlds that around him roll, "For the Source of glory uncovers His face, "Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar, In the infinite azure, star after star, How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass! How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass! And the path of the gentle winds is seen, Where the small waves dance, and the young woods lean. |