His eyes had to live under! - clear as flint

On either side the formidable nose

Curved, cut, and coloured, like an eagle's claw.

Had he to do with A.'s surprising fate?

When altogether old B. disappeared

And young C. got his mistress,

was 't our friend,

His letter to the King, that did it all?

What paid the bloodless man for so much pains?
Our Lord the King has favourites manifold,
And shifts his ministry some once a month;
Our city gets new Governors at whiles,—
But never word or sign, that I could hear.
Notified to this man about the streets
The King's approval of those letters conned
The last thing duly at the dead of night.
Did the man love his office? frowned our Lord,
Exhorting when none heard -"Beseech me not!
Too far above my people, beneath Me!

I set the watch, how should the people know? Forget them, keep Me all the more in mind!" Was some such understanding 'twixt the Two?

I found no truth in one report at least-
That if you tracked him to his home, down lanes
Beyond the Jewry, and as clean to pace,
You found he ate his supper in a room

Blazing with lights, four Titians on the wall,
And twenty naked girls to change his plate!
Poor man, he lived another kind of life

In that new, stuccoed, third house by the bridge,
Fresh-painted, rather smart than otherwise!
The whole street might o'erlook him as he sat,
Leg crossing leg, one foot on the dog's back,
Playing a decent cribbage with his maid
(Jacynth, you're sure her name was) o'er the cheese
And fruit, three red halves of starved winter-pears,
Or treat of radishes in April! nine-

Ten, struck the church clock, straight to bed went he.

My father, like the man of sense he was, Would point him out to me a dozen times;

"St

St" he'd whisper, "the Corregidor!"

I had been used to think that personage

Was one with lacquered breeches, lustrous belt,
And feathers like a forest in his hat,

Who blew a trumpet and proclaimed the news,
Announced the bull-fights, gave each church its turn,
And memorized the miracle in vogue!

He had a great observance from us boys —
I was in error; that was not the man.

I'd like now, yet had haply been afraid,
To have just looked, when this man came to die,
And seen who lined the clean gay garret's sides
And stood about the neat low truckle-bed,
With the heavenly manner of relieving guard.
Here had been, mark, the general-in-chief,

Thro' a whole campaign of the world's life and death

Doing the King's work all the dim day long,
In his old coat, and up to his knees in mud,
Smoked like a herring, dining on a crust,-
And now the day was won, relieved at once!
No further show or need for that old coat,

You are sure, for one thing! Bless us, all the while
How sprucely we are dressed out, you and I!

A second, and the angels alter that.

Well, I could never write a verse,

could you?

Let's to the Prado and make the most of time.

THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER.

I SAID

-

1.

Then, dearest, since 'tis so,

Since now at length my fate I know,

Since nothing all my love avails,

Since all my life seemed meant for, fails,

Since this was written and needs must be

My whole heart rises up to bless

Your name in pride and thankfulness!

Take back the hope you gave,
Only a memory of the same,

I claim

-And this beside, if you will not blame,

Your leave for one more last ride with me.

2.

My mistress bent that brow of hers,

Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs
When pity would be softening through,
Fixed me a breathing-while or two

With life or death in the balance - Right! The blood replenished me again:

My last thought was at least not vain.
I and my mistress, side by side
Shall be together, breathe and ride,

So one day more am I deified.

Who knows but the world may end to-night?

8.

Hush! if you saw some western cloud
All billowy-bosomed, over-bowed
By many benedictions - sun's

And moon's and evening-star's at once

And so, you, looking and loving best,
Conscious grew, your passion drew
Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too
Down on you, near and yet more near,
Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!
Thus leant she and lingered-joy and fear!
Thus lay she a moment on my breast.

4.

Then we began to ride.

My soul

Smoothed itself out, a long-cramped scroll
Freshening and fluttering in the wind.

Past hopes already lay behind.

What need to strive with a life awry?

Had I said that, had I done this,
So might I gain, so might I miss.
Might she have loved me? just as well