Then may she learn I loved her to the last." "Woman, I have a secret Before I tell you only swear, swear upon the book Not to reveal it, till you see me dead." "Dead," clamour'd the good woman "hear him talk! I warrant, man, that we shall bring you round.” "Swear" added Enoch sternly "on the book." And on the book, half-frighted, Miriam swore. Then Enoch rolling his gray eyes upon her, "Did you know Enoch Arden of this town?” "Know him?" she said "I knew him far away. Ay, ay, I mind him coming down the street; Held his head high, and cared for no man, he." Slowly and sadly Enoch answer'd her; "His head is low, and no man cares for him. I think I have not three days more to live; I am the man." At which the woman gave A half-incredulous, half-hysterical cry. "You Arden, you! nay, sure he was a foot Higher than you be." Enoch said again "My God has bow'd me down to what I am; My grief and solitude have broken me; Nevertheless, know you that I am he Who married but that name has twice been changed - Sit, listen." Then he told her of his voyage, Eager to bring them down, for Enoch hung "Woman, disturb me not now at the last, But let me hold my purpose till I die. Sit down again; mark me and understand, While I have power to speak. I charge you now, When you shall see her, tell her that I died Blessing her, praying for her, loving her; Save for the bar between us, loving her As when she laid her head beside my own. And tell my daughter Annie, whom I saw So like her mother, that my latest breath Was spent in blessing her and praying for her. And tell my son that I died blessing him. And say to Philip that I blest him too; He never meant us any thing but good. But if my children care to see me dead, Who hardly knew me living, let them come, I am their father; but she must not come, For my dead face would vex her after-life. And now there is but one of all my blood, Who will embrace me in the world-to-be: This hair is his: she cut it off and gave it, And I have borne it with me all these years, And thought to bear it with me to my grave; But now my mind is changed, for I shall see him, My babe in bliss: wherefore when I am gone, Take, give her this, for it may comfort her: It will moreover be a token to her, That I am he." He ceased: and Miriam Lane Made such a voluble answer promising all, She promised. Then the third night after this, While Enoch slumber'd motionless and pale, He woke, he rose, he spread his arms abroad I am saved;" and so fell back and spoke no more. So past the strong heroic soul away. And when they buried him the little port CROSSING THE BAR. Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. You know, we French stormed Ratisbon : A mile or so away, Stood on our storming-day; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, II. Just as perhaps he mused "My plans "Waver at yonder wall," Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full-galloping; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound. III. Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect (So tight he kept his lips compressed, 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, "Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans Soared up again like fire. V. The chief's eye flashed; but presently Softened itself, as sheathes A film the mother-eagle's eye 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. THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. I. Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, From vermin, was a pity. |