"I am old, but let me drink; Bring me spices, bring me wine; 1 remember, when I think,

That my youth was half divine.

"Wine is good for shrivell'd lips, When a blanket wraps the day, When the rotten woodland drips,

And the leaf is stamp'd in clay.

"Sit thee down, and have no shame, Cheek by jowl, and knee by knee : What care I for any name?

What for order or degree?

"Let me screw thee up a peg: Let me loose thy tongue with wine : Callest thou that thing a leg?

Which is thinnest ? thine or mine?

"Thou shalt not be saved by works; Thou hast been a sinner too : Ruin'd trunks on wither'd forks, Empty scarecrows, I and you!

"Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn : Every moment dies a man,

Every moment one is born.

And I desire to rest.

BREAK, break, break,

On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!

I lie : Go by, go by.

THE EAGLE.

FRAGMENT.

HE clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.

MOVE eastward, happy earth, and leave
Yon orange sunset waning slow :
From fringes of the faded eve,

O, happy planet, eastward go;
Till over thy dark shoulder glow

Thy silver sister-world, and rise
To glass herself in dewy eyes
That watch me from the glen below.

Ah, bear me with thee, smoothly borne,

Dip forward under starry light, And move me to my marriage-morn, And round again to happy night.

The thoughts that arise in me.

cloud,

And the lark drop down at his feet.

The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee, The snake slipt under a spray,

The wild hawk stood with the down on

his beak,

And stared, with his foot on the prey, And the nightingale thought, "I have sung many songs,

But never a one so gay, For he sings of what the world will be When the years have died away."

A LEGEND OF THE NAVY.

HE that only rules by terror

Doeth grievous wrong.
Deep as Hell I count his error,

Let him hear my song.

Brave the Captain was: the seamen

Made a gallant crew,
Gallant sons of English freemen,
Sailors bold and true.
But they hated his oppression,
Stern he was and rash;
So for every light transgression
Doom'd them to the lash.
Day by day more harsh and cruel
Seem'd the Captain's mood.
Secret wrath like smother'd fuel
Burnt in each man's blood.
Yet he hoped to purchase glory,
Hoped to make the name
Of his vessel great in story,
Wheresoe'er he came.

So they past by capes and islands,
Many a harbor-mouth,
Sailing under palmy highlands
Far within the South.

O'er the lone expanse,

In the north, her canvas flowing,
Rose a ship of France.
Then the Captain's color heighten'd,
But a cloudy gladness lighten'd
Joyful canie his speech:
In the eyes of each.

"Chase," he said: the ship flew forward,
And the wind did blow;
Stately, lightly, went she Norward,
Till she near'd the foe.

Then they look'd at him they hated,
Had what they desired :

Mute with folded arms they waited -
Not a gun was fired.

But they heard the foeman's thunder
Roaring out their doom;

All the air was torn in sunder,

Crashing went the boom,

Spars were splinter'd,decks were shatter'd,
Bullets fell like rain;

Over mast and deck were scatter'd
Blood and brains of men.

Spars were splinter'd; decks were broken:
Every mother's son —

Down they dropt- no word wasspcken—
Each beside his gun.

On the decks as they were lying,
Were their faces grim.

In their blood, as they lay dying,
Did they smile on him.

Those, in whom he had reliance
For his noble name,

With one smile of still defiance

Sold him unto shame.

Shame and wrath his heart confounded,

Pale he turn'd and red,

Till himself was deadly wounded
Falling on the dead.

Dismal error! fearful slaughter!
Years have wander'd by,

Side by side beneath the water
Crew and Captain lie;
There the sunlit ocean tosses
O'er them mouldering,
And the lonely seabird crosses
With one waft of the wing.

THREE SONNETS TO A COQUETTE.

I.

CARESS'D or chidden by the dainty hand, And singing airy trifles this or that, Light Hope at Beauty's call would perch and stand,

and flat;

The form, the form alone is eloquent!
A nobler yearning never broke her rest
Than but to dance and sing, be gayly
drest,

Nor care to sit beside her where she

sits

Ah pity-hintit not in human tones, But breathe it into earth and close it up With secret death for ever, in the pits Which some green Christmas crams with weary bones.

SONG.

LADY, let the rolling drums Beat to battle where thy warrior stands : Now thy face across his fancy comes,

And gives the battle to his hands.

Lady, let the trumpets blow, Clasp thy little babes about thy knee : Now their warrior father meets the foe, And strikes him dead for thine and thee.

SONG.

ment:

They brought him home at even-fall: All alone she sits and hears Echoes in his empty hall,

Sounding on the morrow.

The Sun peep'd in from open field,
The boy began to leap and prance,
Rode upon his father's lance,
Beat upon his father's shield

“O hush, my joy, my sorrow.”

ON A MOURNER.

I.

NATURE, so far as in her lies,
Imitates God, and turns her face
To every land beneath the skies,
Counts nothing that she meets with
base,

But lives and loves in every place;

II.

Fills out the homely quickset-screens,
And makes the purple lilac ripe,
Steps from her airy hill, and greens
The swamp, where hums the dropping
snipe,

With moss and braided marish-pipe;

III.

And on thy heart a finger lays,

Saying, "Beat quicker, for the time Is pleasant, and the woods and ways