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I said to the lily, "There is but one
With whom she has heart to be gay.
When will the dancers leave her alone?

She is weary of dance and play." Now half to the setting moon are gone,

And half to the rising day;

Low on the sand and loud on the stone
The last wheel echoes away.


I said to the rose, "The brief night goes

In babble and revel and wine.

O young lord-lover, what sighs are those,
For one that will never be thine!

But mine, but mine," so I sware to the rose,
"For ever and ever, mine!"


And the soul of the rose went into my blood,
As the music clashed in the hall;

And long by the garden lake I stood,

For I heard your rivulet fall

From the lake to the meadow and on to the woodOur wood, that is dearer than all—


From the meadow your walks have left so sweet,
That wherever a March-wind sighs,

He sets the jewel-print of your feet,

In violets blue as your eyes,
To the woody hollows in which we meet,
And the valleys of Paradise.


The slender acacia would not shake

One long milk-bloom on the tree;
The white lake-blossom fell into the lake,

As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me;

The lilies and roses were all awake,

They sighed for the dawn and thee.


Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
Come hither, the dances are done,

In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,

Queen lily and rose in one;

Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun.


There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear!
She is coming, my life, my fate!

The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"


And the white rose weeps, She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, “I wait.”


She is coining, my own, my sweet!
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;

My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead-
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.

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HALF a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death,

Rode the Six Hundred.

Charge!" was the captain's cry;
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs but to do and die;
Into the valley of Death
Rode the Six Hundred.


Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them,

Volleyed and thundered.
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well;
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell,

Rode the Six Hundred.

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Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed all at once in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while

All the world wondered.
Plunged in the battery smoke,
Fiercely the line they broke;
Strong was the sabre-stroke,
Making an army reel,

Shaken and sundered;
Then they rode back, but not-
Not the Six Hundred.


Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them,

Volleyed and thundered.
Stormed at with shot and shell,
They that had struck so well
Rode through the jaws of Death
Half a league back again-
Up from the mouth of hell
All that was left of them-
Left of Six Hundred.


Honour the brave and boid!

Long shall the tale be told,

Yes, when our babes are old-

How they rode onward.




STORM was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak so hollow huge and old

It looked a tower of ruined masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.

The wily Vivien stole from Arthur's court:
She hated all the knights, and heard in thought
Their lavish comment when her name was named.
For once, when Arthur, waiking all alone,
Vexed at a rumour rife about the Queen,
Had met her, Vivien, being greeted fair,
Would fain have wrought upon his cloudy mood
With reverent eyes mock-loyal, shaken voice,
And fluttered adoration, and at last

With dark sweet hints of some who prized him more
Than who should prize him most; at which the King
Had gazed upon her blankly and gone by:

But one had watched, and had not held his peace :

It made the laughter of an afternoon

That Vivien should attempt the blameless King.
And after that, she set herself to gain

Him, the most famous man of all those times,
Merlin, who knew the range of all their arts.
Had built the King his havens, ships, and halls,
Was also Bard, and knew the starry heavens;
The people called him Wizard; whom at first

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