INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP. I. You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away, On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. II. Just as perhaps he mused 'My plans Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew Until he reached the mound. III. Then off there flung in smiling joy, By just his horse's mane, a boy : Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. IV. 'Well,' cried he, 'Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon ! The Marshal's in the market-place, And you'll be there anon To see your flag-bird flap his vans Where I, to heart's desire, i Perched him!' The chief's eye flashed; his plans Soared up again like fire. ! V. The chief's eye flashed; but presently When her bruised eaglet breathes. 'You're wounded!' 'Nay,' the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said : 'I'm killed, Sire!' And his chief beside, Smiling the boy fell dead. TWO IN THE CAMPAGNA. I. I wonder do you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, We sat down on the grass, to stray In spirit better through the land, This morn of Rome and May? II. For me, I touched a thought, I know, III. Help me to hold it! First it left The yellowing fennel, run to seed There, branching from the brickwork's cleft, IV. Where one small orange cup amassed Five beetles,—-blind and green they grope, Among the honey-meal and last, Everywhere on the grassy slope, I traced it. Hold it fast! V. The champaign with its endless fleece VI. Such life here, through such lengths of hours, Such primal naked forms of flowers, VII. How say you? Let us, O my dove, To love or not to love? VIII. I would that you were all to me, IX. I would I could adopt your will, See with your eyes, and set my heart Beating by yours, and drink my fill At your soul's springs,-your part my part In life, for good and ill. X. No. I yearn upward, touch you close, Catch your soul's warmth,-I pluck the rose XI. Already how am I so far Out of that minute? Must I go Onward, whenever light winds blow, XII. Just when I seemed about to learn! Infinite passion, and the pain (1855.) UP AT A VILLA-DOWN IN THE CITY. (As distinguished by an Italian Person of quality.) I. Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, II. Something to see, by Bacchus, something to hear, at least! III. Well now, look at our villa! stuck like the horn of a bull -I scratch my own, sometimes, to see if the hair's turned wool. IV. But the city, oh the city—the square with the houses! Why? They are stone-faced, white as a curd, there's something to take the eye! Houses in four straight lines, not a single front awry; You watch who crosses and gossips, who saunters, who hurries by ; Green blinds, as a matter of course, to draw when the sun gets high; And the shops with fanciful signs which are painted properly. V. What of a villa? though winter be over in March by rights, 'Tis May perhaps ere the snow shall have withered well off the heights: You've the brown ploughed land before, where the oxen steam and wheeze, And the hills over-smoked behind by the faint grey olive-trees. VI. Is it better in May, I ask you? You've summer all at once; Is it ever hot in the square? splash! VII. There's a fountain to spout and In the shade it sings and springs; in the shine such foam-bows flash On the horses with curling fish-tails, that prance and paddle and pash Round the lady atop in her conch-fifty gazers do not abash, Though all that she wears is some weeds round her waist in a sort of sash VIII. All the year long at the villa, nothing to see though you linger, Except yon cypress that points like death's lean lifted forefinger. Some think fireflies pretty, when they mix i' the corn and mingle, Or thrid the stinking hemp till the stalks of it seem a-tingle. Late August or early September, the stunning cicala is shrill, And the bees keep their tiresome whine round the resinous firs on the hill. Enough of the seasons,-I spare you the months of the fever and chill. |