Thy living voice to me was as the voice of | (the dead,

And all along the valley, by rock and cave (and tree,

The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.

THE FLOWER.
ONCE in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.
To and fro they went

Thro' my garden bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.
Then it grew so tall

It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.
Sow'd it far and wide

By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
"Splendid is the flower."
Read my little fable:

He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.
And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.

REQUIESCAT.

FAIR is her cottage in its place,

O boy, tho' thou art young and proud,
I see the place where thou wilt lie.
The sands and yeasty surges mix
In caves about the dreary bay,
And on thy ribs the limpet sticks,

And in thy heart the scrawl shall play."
"Fool," he answer'd, death is sure
To those that stay and those that roam,
But I will nevermore endure

To sit with empty hands at home.
"My mother clings about my neck,

My sisters crying, 'Stay for shame;'
My father raves of death and wreck,
They are all to blame, they are all to
(blame.

"God help me! save I take my part

Of danger on the roaring sea,

A devil rises in my heart,

Far worse than any death to me."

THE ISLET.

WHITHER, O whither, love, shall we go,
For a score of sweet little summers or so?"
The sweet little wife of the singer said,
On the day that follow'd the day she was
(wed,

Whither, O whither, love, shall we go?"
And the singer shaking his curly head
Turn'd as he sat, and struck the keys
There at his right with a sudden crash,
Singing,,,And shall it be over the seas
With a crew that is neither rude nor rash,
But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheek'd,
In a shallop of crystal ivory-beak'd,

Where yon broad water sweetly slowly With a satin sail of a ruby glow,

(glides.

It sees itself from thatch to base

Dream in the sliding tides.

And fairer she, but ah how soon to die!
Her quiet dream of life this hour may
(cease.

Her peaceful being slowly passes by
To some more perfect peace.

THE SAILOR BOY.
He rose at dawn and, fired with hope,
Shot o'er the seething harbour-bar,
And reach'd the ship and caught the rope
And whistled to the morning star.
And while he whistled long and loud
He heard a fierce mermaiden cry,

To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know,
A mountain islet pointed and peak'd:
Waves on a diamond shingle dash,
Cataract brooks to the ocean run,
Fairily-delicate palaces shine

Mixt with myrtle and clad with vine,
And overstream'd and silvery-streak'd
With many a rivulet high against the Sun
The facets of the glorious mountain flash
Above the valleys of palm and pine."

Thither, O thither, love, let us go"
"No, no, no!

For in all that exquisite isle, my dear,
There is but one bird with a musical throat,
And his compass is but of a single note,
That it makes one weary to hear."

A DEDICATION.
DEAR, near and true -no truer Time him-
(self

Can prove you, tho' he make you evermore
Dearer and nearer, as the rapid of life
Shoots to the fall-take this and pray that he,
Who wrote it, honouring your sweet faith
(in him,

May trust himself: and spite of praise and
(scorn,

As one who feels the immeasurable world,
Attain the wise indifference of the wise;
And after Autumns past- - if left to pass
His autumn into seeming-leafless days-
Draw toward the long frost and longest
(night,

Wearing his wisdom lightly, like the fruit
Which in our winter woodland looks a
(flower. *

EXPERIMENTS.
BOÄDICEA.

WHILE about the shore of Mona those Neronian legionaries
Burnt and broke the grove and altar of the Druid and Druidess,
Far in the East Boädicéa, standing loftily charioted,

Mad and maddening all that heard her in her fierce volubility,
Girt by half the tribes of Britain, near the colony Cámulodúne,
Yell'd and shriek'd between her daughters o'er a wild confederacy.
They that scorn the tribes and call us Britain's barbarous populaces,
Did they hear me, would they listen, did they pity me supplicating?
Shall I heed them in their anguish? shall I brook to be supplicated?
Hear Icenian, Catieuchlanian, hear Coritanian, Trinobant!
Must their ever-ravening_eagle's beak and talon annihilate us?
Tear the noble heart of Britain, leave it gorily quivering?

Bark an answer, Britain's raven! bark and blacken innumerable,
Blacken round the Roman carrion, make the carcase a skeleton,

Kite and kestrel, wolf and wolf kin, from the wilderness, wallow in it,
Till the face of Bel be brighten'd, Taranis be propitiated.
Lo their colony half-defended! lo their colony, Camulodúne!
There the horde of Roman robbers mock at a barbarous adversary.
There the hive of Roman liars worship a gluttonous emperor-idiot.
Such is Rome, and this her deity: hear it, Spirit of Cássivelaún!

"Hear it, Gods! the Gods have heard it, O Icenean, O Coritanian!
Doubt not ye the Gods have answer'd, Catieuchlanian, Trinobant.
These have told us all their anger in miraculous utterances,
Thunder, a flying fire in heaven, a murmur heard aërially,

Phantom sound of blows descending, moan of an enemy massacred,
Phanton wail of women and children, multitudinous agonies.

Bloodily flow'd the Tamesa rolling phantom bodies of horses and men;
Then a phantom colony smoulder'd on the refluent estuary;

Lastly yonder yester-even, suddenly giddily tottering

There was one who watch'd and told me down their statue of Victory fell.
Lo their precious Roman bantling, lo the colony Cámulodúne,
Shall we teach it a Roman lesson? shall we care to be pitiful?
Shall we deal with it as an infant? shall we dandle it amorously?
,,Hear Icenean, Catieuchlanian, hear Coritanian, Trinobant!
While I roved about the forest, long and bitterly meditating,
There I heard them in the darkness, at the mystical ceremony,
Loosely robed in flying raiment, sang the terrible prophetesses.

The fruit of the Spindle-tree (Euonymus Europæus).

'Fear not, isle of blowing woodland, isle of silvery parapets!

Tho' the Roman eagle shadow thee, tho' the gathering enemy narrow thee,
Thou shalt wax and he shall dwindle, thou shalt be the mighty one yet!
Thine the liberty, thine the glory, thine the deeds to be celebrated,
Thine the myriad-rolling ocean, light and shadow illimitable,
Thine the lands of lasting summer, many-blossoming Paradises,
Thine the North and thine the South and thine the battle-thunder of God!'
So they chanted: how shall Britain light upon auguries happier?
So they chanted in the darkness, and there cometh a victory now..

"Hear Icenian, Catieuchlanian, hear Coritanian, Trinobant! Me the wife of rich Prasutagus, me the lover of liberty,

Me they seized and me they tortured, me they lash'd and humiliated,
Me the sport of ribald Veterans, mine of ruffian violators!
See they sit, they hide their faces, miserable in ignominy!
Wherefore in me burns an anger, not by blood to be satiated.
Lo the palaces and the temple, lo the colony Cámulodúne!

There they ruled, and thence they wasted all the flourishing territory,
Thither at their will they haled the yellow-ringleted Britoness
Bloodily, bloodily fall the battle-axe, unexhausted, inexorable.
Shout Icenian, Catieuchlanian, shout Coritanian, Trinobant,
Till the victim hear within and yearn to hurry precipitously

---

Like the leaf in a roaring whirlwind, like the smoke in a hurricane whirl'd.
Lo the colony, there they rioted in the city of Cúnobeline!
There they drank in cups of emerald, there at tables of ebony lay,
Rolling on their purple couches in their tender effeminacy.
There they dwelt and there they rioted; there - there they dwell no more.
Burst the gates, and burn the palaces, break the works of the statuary,
Take the hoary Roman head and shatter it, hold it abominable,
Cut the Roman boy to pieces in his lust and voluptuousness,
Lash the maiden into swooning, me they lash'd and humiliated,
Chop the breasts from off the mother, dash the brains of the little one out,
Up my Britons, on my chariot, on my chargers, trample them under us."

So the Queen Boädicéa, standing loftily charioted,

Brandishing in ber hand a dart and rolling glances lioness-like,
Yell'd and shrieked between her daughters in her fierce volubility.
Till her people all around the royal chariot agitated,

Madly dash'd the darts together, writhing barbarous lineäments,
Made the noise of frosty woodlands, when they shiver in January,
Roar'd as when the rolling breakers boom and blanch on the precipices,
Yell'd as when the winds of winter tear an oak on a promontory.
So the silent colony hearing her tumultuous adversaries

Clash the darts and on the buckler beat with rapid unanimous hand,
Thought on all her evil tyrannies, all her pitiless avarice,
Till she felt the heart within her fall and flutter tremulously,
Then her pulses at the clamouring of her enemy fainted away.
Out of evil evil flourishes, out of tyranny tyranny buds.
Ran the land with Roman slaughter, multitudinous agonies.
Perish'd many a maid and matron; many a valourous legionary,
Fell the colony, city, and citadel, London, Verulam, Cámulodúne.