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"Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,

Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer."- Page 25.

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Of her chest, saw the stretched neck

and staggering knees,

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 flock ing round

As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;

And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of As I poured down his throat our last

the flank,

As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

VII.

So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud

in the sky;

measure of wine,

Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)

Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.

The broad sun above laughed a piti- SONG FROM "PARACELSUS."

less laugh,

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the freemen,

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He alone sinks o the rear and the Say after me, and try to say

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,

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!

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