SOLILOQUY OF THE SPANISH CLOISTER. 19

Bright, as 't were a Barbary corsair's? (That is, if he'd let it show!)

O, those melons! If he's able
We're to have a feast; so nice!
One goes to the Abbot's table,
All of us get each a slice.

How go on your flowers? None double?
Not one fruit-sort can you spy?

Strange! And I, too, at such trouble,

Keep 'em close-nipped on the sly!

There's a great text in Galatians,
Once you trip on it, entails
Twenty-nine distinct damnations,
One sure, if another fails.
If I trip him just a-dying,

Sure of Heaven as sure can be,
Spin him round and send him flying
Off to Hell, a Manichee!

Or, my scrofulous French novel,
On gray paper with blunt type!
Simply glance at it, you grovel
Hand and foot in Belial's gripe :
If I double down its pages

At the woful sixteenth point,
When he gathers his greengages,
Ope a sieve and slip it in 't!

Or, there's Satan! -one might venture
Pledge one's soul to him, yet leave
Such a flaw in the indenture

As he 'd miss till, past retrieve,
Blasted lay that rose-acacia

We're so proud of! Hy, Zy, Hine..
'St, there's Vespers! Plena gratiâ
Ave Virgo! Gr-r-r—you swine!

THROUGH THE METIDJA TO ABD-EL-KADR.

A

SI ride, as I ride,

With a full heart for my guide,

So its tide rocks my side,

As I ride, as I ride,

That, as I were double-eyed,

He, in whom our Tribes confide,

Is descried, ways untried

As I ride, as I ride.

As I ride, as I ride

To our Chief and his Allied,

Who dares chide my heart's pride

As I ride, as I ride?

Or are witnesses denied,

Through the desert waste and wide

Do I glide unespied

As I ride, as I ride?

As I ride, as I ride,

When an inner voice has cried,

The sands slide, nor abide

(As I ride, as I ride)

Shows where sweat has sprung and dried,

- Zebra-footed, ostrich-thighed,

How has vied stride with stride

As I ride, as I ride!

As I ride, as I ride,

Could I loose what Fate has tied,
Ere I pried, she should hide
As I ride, as I ride,

All that 's meant me: satisfied

When the Prophet and the Bride
Stop veins I'd have subside
As I ride, as I ride!

COUNT GISMOND.

"HRIST God, who savest men, save most

CH

Of men Count Gismond who saved me!
Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,
Chose time and place and company
To suit it; when he struck at length
My honor 't was with all his strength.

And doubtlessly ere he could draw

All points to one, he must have schemed.

21

That miserable morning saw
Few half so happy as I seemed,
While being dressed in Queen's array
To give our Tourney prize away.

I thought they loved me, did me grace
To please themselves; 't was all their deed:
God makes, or fair or foul, our face;

If showing mine so caused to bleed

My cousins' hearts, they should have dropped A word, and straight the play had stopped.

They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen
By virtue of her brow and breast;
Not needing to be crowned, I mean,

As I do. E'en when I was dressed,
Had either of them spoke, instead
Of glancing sideways with still head!

But no they let me laugh, and sing
My birthday song quite through, adjust
The last rose in my garland, fling

A last look on the mirror, trust
My arms to each an arm of theirs,
And so descend the castle-stairs,

And come out on the morning troop

Of merry friends who kissed my cheek, And called me Queen, and made me stoop Under the canopy, — (a streak

That pierced it, of the outside sun, Powdered with gold its gloom's soft dun,) —

And they could let me take my state

And foolish throne amid applause

Of all come there to celebrate

My Queen's day,

O, I think the cause

Of much was, they forgot no crowd

Makes up for parents in their shroud!

COUNT GISMOND.

Howe'er that be, all eyes were bent
Upon me, when my cousins cast
Theirs down; 't was time I should present

The victor's crown, but . . . there, 't will last
No long time. . . the old mist again
Blinds me as then it did. How vain!

See! Gismond 's at the gate, in talk

With his two boys: I can proceed.
Well, at that moment, who should stalk
Forth boldly (to my face, indeed)
But Gauthier, and he thundered " Stay!"
And all stayed. "Bring no crowns, I

Say!"

Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet About her! Let her shun the chaste, Or lay herself before their feet!

Shall she, whose body I embraced A night long, queen it in the day? For Honor's sake no crowns, I

Say!"

As I live

I never fancied such a thing

As answer possible to give.

What says the body when they spring Some monstrous torture-engine's whole Strength on it? No more says the soul.

Till out strode Gismond; then I knew
That I was saved. I never met
His face before, but, at first view,

I felt quite sure that God had set
Himself to Satan; who would spend
A minute's mistrust on the end?

He strode to Gauthier, in his throat

Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth

With one back-handed blow that wrote

In blood men's verdict there. North, South,

23