High on the shore sat the great god Pan,
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.

He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it grew in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,

And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.

'This is the way,' laughed the great god Pan
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
'The only way, since gods began

To make sweet music, they could succeed.' Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed, He blew in power by the river.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!

Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.

Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain,
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.

IN the ranks of the Austrian you found him,
He died with his face to you all;
Yet bury him here, where around him
You honour your bravest that fall.
Venetian, fair-featured and slender,

He lies, shot to death in his youth,
With a smile on his lips, over-tender

For any mere soldier's dead mouth. No stranger, and yet not a traitor;

Though alien the cloth on his breast, Underneath it, how seldom a greater Young heart has a shot sent to rest! By your enemy tortured and goaded To march with them, stand in their file, His musket (see) never was loaded,

He facing your guns with that smile! As orphans yearn on to their mothers,

He yearned to your patriot bands;— 'Let me die for our Italy, brothers,

If not in your ranks, by your hands! Aim straightly, fire steadily! spare me A ball in the body which may Deliver my heart here, and tear me This badge of the Austrian away!'

So thought he, so died he this morning.
What then? many others have died.
Ay, but easy for men to die scorning
The death-stroke, who fought side by side-

One tricolor floating above them;
Struck down 'mid triumphant acclaims
Of an Italy rescued to love them,
And blazon the brass with their names.

But he-without witness or honour,

There, shamed in his country's regard, With the tyrants who march in upon her, Died faithful and passive: 'twas hard.

'Twas sublime. In a cruel restriction Cut off from the guerdon of sons, With most filial obedience, conviction, His soul kissed the lips of her guns.

That moves you? Nay, grudge not to show it,
While digging a grave for him here:
The others who died, says your poet,
Have glory;-let him have a tear.

CHRIST and his Mother, heavenly Maid,
Mary, in whose fair name was laid
Eton's corner, bless our youth

With truth and purity, mother of truth.

O ye, 'neath breezy skies of June
By silver Thames's lulling tune,
In shade of willow or oak, who try
The golden gates of poesy,

Or on the tabled sward all day
Match your strength in England's play,
Scholars of Henry, giving grace
To toil and force in game or race,
Exceed the prayer and keep the fame
Of him, the sorrowful king, who came
Here in his realm a realm to found,
Where he might stand for ever crowned.
Or whether with naked bodies flashing
Ye plunge in the lashing weir, or dashing
The oars of cedar skiffs, ye strain
Round the rushes and home again,—

Or what pursuit soe'er it be
That makes your mingled presence free,
When by the school-gate 'neath the limes
Ye muster waiting the lazy chimes,

May Peace, that conquereth sin and death,
Temper for you her sword of faith:
Crown with honour the loving eyes,

And touch with mirth the mouth of the wise.

Here is eternal spring: for you
The very stars of heaven are new,
And aged Fame again is born
Fresh as a peeping flower of morn.

For you shall Shakespeare's scene unroll,
Mozart shall steal your ravished soul,

Homer his bardic hymn rehearse,

Virgil recite his maiden verse

Now learn, love, have, do, be the best:
Each in one thing excel the rest:
Strive: and hold fast this truth of heaven-
To him that hath shall more be given.
Slow on your dial the shadows creep,
So many hours for food and sleep,
So many hours till study tire,
So many hours for heart's desire.

These suns and moons shall memory save,
Mirrors bright for her magic cave:
Wherein may steadfast eyes behold
A self that groweth never old.
O, in such prime enjoy your lot,
And when ye leave, regret it not:
With wishing-gifts in festal state
Pass ye the angel-sworded gate.
Then to the world let shine your light,
Children in play, be lions in fight,
And match with red immortal deeds
The victory that made ring the meads:
Or by firm wisdom save your land
From giddy head and grasping hand :
IMPROVE THE BEST; So shall your sons
Better what ye have bettered once.
Send them here to the court of grace,
Bearing your name to fill your place :
Ye in their time shall live again
The happy dream of Henry's reign:
And on his day your steps be bent
Where saint and king crowned with content
He biddeth a prayer to bless his youth
With truth and purity, mother of truth.

An hour they sate in council,

At length the Mayor broke silence: 'For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell; I wish I were a mile hence!'

Just as he said this, what should hap
At the chamber door but a gentle tap!

Bless us,' cried the Mayor, 'what's that?'

'Come in!'-the Mayor cried, looking bigger. And in did come the strangest figure. His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red; And he himself was tall and thin, No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and inThere was no guessing his kith and kin!

'Yet,' said he, 'poor piper as I am,
In Tartary I freed the Cham,
Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;

And, as for what your brain bewilders,
If I can rid your town of rats

Will you give me a thousand guilders?' 'One? fifty thousand!'-was the exclamation Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

Into the street the Piper stept,
Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept
In his quiet pipe the while;
Then, like a musical adept,

To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled
Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;

'HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;

'Good speed!' cried the watch, as the gatebolts 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.

And out of the house the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives,
Followed the Piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing,
And step by step they followed dancing,
Until they came to the river Weser,
Wherein all plunged and perished.

A thousand guilders-The Mayor looked blue;
So did the Corporation too.

To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
With a gipsy coat of red and yellow! .
Quoth the Mayor, 'for the guilders, what we
spoke

Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty;
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!'

The piper's face fell, and he cried,
'No trifling! I can't wait, beside!

And folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion.'
'How?' cried the Mayor, 'd'ye think I'll brook
Being worse treated than a cook? .
You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
Blow your pipe there till you burst!'

.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry

To the children merrily skipping by

The Piper turned from South to West,
And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
And after him the children pressed;

When lo! as they reached the mountain's side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
And the Piper advanced and the children
followed,

And when all were in to the very last,
The door in the mountain-side shut fast.

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;

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,

And Gallop,' gasped Joris, 'for Aix is in sight!

'How they'll greet us!'-and all in a moment his roan

Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;

And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight

Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,

With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,

And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall,

Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,

Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer;

Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good,

Til at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

FIRST I salute this soil of the blessed, river and rock!

Gods of my birthplace, dæmons and heroes, honour to all!

Then I name thee, claim thee for our patron, co-equal in praise

-Ay, with Zeus the Defender, with Her of the ægis and spear!

Also, ye of the bow and the buskin, praised be your peer,

Henceforth and forever,-O latest to whom I upraise

Hand and heart and voice! For Athens, leave pasture and flock! Present to help, potent to save, Pan-patron I call!

Archons of Athens, topped by the tettix, see, I

return!

See, 'tis myself here standing alive, no spectre that speaks,

Crowned with the myrtle, did you command me, Athens and you,

'Run, Pheidippides, run and race, reach Sparta for aid!

Persia has come, we are here, where is She?' Your command I obeyed,

Ran and raced: like stubble, some field which a fire runs through,

Was the space between city and city: two days, two nights did I burn

Over the hills, under the dales, down pits and up peaks.

Into their midst I broke: breath served but for 'Persia has come!

Persia bids Athens proffer slaves'-tribute, water and earth;

Razed to the ground is Eretria--but Athens, shall Athens sink,

Drop into dust and die-the flower of Hellas utterly die,

Die, with the wide world spitting at Sparta,

the stupid, the stander-by?

Answer me quick, what help, what hand do you stretch o'er destruction's brink? How, when? No care for my limbs!there's lightning in all and some— Fresh and fit your message to bear, once lips give it birth!'

'Have ye kept faith, proved mindful of honours we paid you erewhile?

Vain was the filleted victim, the fulsome libation! Too rash

Love in its choice, paid you so largely service so slack!'

Such my cry as, rapid, I ran over Parnes' ridge;

Gully and gap I clambered and cleared till, sudden, a bar

Jutted, a stoppage of stone against me, blocking the way.

Right! for I minded the hollow to traverse, the fissure across:

'Where I could enter, there I depart by! Night in the fosse?

Out of the day dive, into the day as bravely arise! No bridge

Better!'-when-ha! what was it I came on, of wonders that are?

There, in the cool of a cleft, sat he-majestical Pan!

Ivy drooped wanton, kissed his head, moss cushioned his hoof:

All the great God was good in the eyes gravekindly-the curl

Carved on the bearded cheek, amused at a mortal's awe,

As, under the human trunk, the goat-thighs grand I saw.

'Halt, Pheidippides!'-halt I did, my brain of a whirl:

'Hither to me! Why pale in my presence?' he gracious began:

'How is it,-Athens, only in Hellas, holds me aloof?

'Athens, she only, rears me no fane, makes me no feast!

Wherefore? Than I what godship to Athens more helpful of old?

Ay, and still, and forever her friend! Test Pan, trust me!

Go, bid Athens take heart, laugh Persia to scorn, have faith

In the temples and tombs! Go, say to Athens, 'The Goat-God saith:

When Persia-so much as strews not the soilis cast in the sea,

Then praise Pan who fought in the ranks with your most and least,

Goat-thigh to greaved thigh, made one cause with the free and the bold!

"Say, "Pan saith:-Let this, foreshowing the place, be the pledge!"

past them again,

bear