INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP. With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, II. Just as perhaps he mused "My plans, 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, By just his horse's mane, a boy : You hardly could suspect, (So tight he kept his lips compressed, You looked twice, ere you saw his breast IV. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's We've got you Ratisbon ! The Marshal's in the market-place, And you'll be there anon, grace A SPINNING-WHEEL SONG. 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 : "You're wounded!" "Nay," his soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said: "I'm killed, sire!" And, his chief beside, Smiling, the boy fell dead. ROBERT BROWNING. A SPINNING-WHEEL SONG. MELLOW the moonlight to shine is beginning; ""Tis the ivy, dear mother, against the glass flapping." 66 Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing." ""Tis the sound, mother dear, of the summer wind dying." Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring, Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring; A SPINNING-WHEEL SONG. Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing, Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. "What's that noise that I hear at the window, I wonder?" 66 'Tis the little birds chirping the holly-bush under." "What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on, MY LOVE. Get up on the stool, through the lattice step lightly; Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring; Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing. The maid shakes her head, on her lip lays her fingers, A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother, Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound. The maid steps-then leaps to the arms of her lover. Slower and slower- and slower the wheel swings; Lower and lower-and lower the reel rings. - Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving, MY LOVE. I. NoT as all other women are Is she that to my soul is dear, Her glorious fancies come from far, MY LOVE. II. Great feelings hath she of her own, Which lesser souls may never know; And sweet they are as any tone Wherewith the wind may choose to blow. III. Yet in herself she dwelleth not, Although no home were half so fair: No simplest duty is forgot; Life hath no dim and lowly spot That doth not in her sunshine share. IV. She doeth little kindnesses, Which most leave undone, or despise ; For naught that sets one heart at ease, Is low-esteemed in her eyes. V. She hath no scorn of common things; And patiently she folds her wings : VI. Blessing she is God made her so; |