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"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts

undrew ;

"Speed!" echo'd the wall to us galloping through: Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we gallop'd abreast.

II.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our

place:

I turn'd in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shorten'd each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chain'd slacker the bit, Nor gallop'd less steadily Roland a whit.

III.

'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew, and twilight dawn'd clear ; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see At Düffel, 'twas morning as plain as could be ; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half chime,

So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"

IV.

At Aerschot, up leap'd of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare through the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river-headland its spray.

V.

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent

back

For my voice, and the other prick'd out on his track;

And one eye's black intelligence,—ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and

anon

His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

VI.

By Hasselt, Dirck groan'd; and cried Joris, "Stay spur!

Your Roos gallop'd bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix"-for one heard the quick wheeze

Of her chest, saw the stretch'd neck and staggering knees,

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,

As down on her haunches she shudder'd and sank.

VII.

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laugh'd a pitiless laugh,

'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like

chaff;

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,
And, "Gallop," gasp'd Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

VIII.

"How they'll greet us!"--and all in a moment his

roan

Roll'd neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

IX.

Then I cast loose my buff coat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, lean'd, patted his ear,

Call'd my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer;

Clapp'd my hands, laugh'd and sang, any noise, bad or good,

Till at length into Aix Roland gallop'd and stood.

X.

And all I remember is, friends flocking round

As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground,
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I pour'd down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)
Was no more than his due who brought good news
from Ghent.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

THE EVENING WIND.

(WRITTEN IN NORTH AMERICA.)

SPIRIT that breathest through my lattice,—thou
That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day,—
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow.
Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
Roughening their crests, and scattering high their

spray,

And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee

To the scorch'd land, thou wanderer of the sea!

Not I alone: a thousand bosoms round
Inhale thee in the fulness of delight,
And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound
Livelier, at coming of the wind of night;
And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound,
Lies the vast inland, stretch'd beyond the sight.
Go forth, into the gathering shade, go forth,
God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth !
Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest,

Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest;

Summoning from the' innumerable boughs The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast. Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass, And 'twixt the' o'ershadowing branches and the grassThe faint old man shall lean his silver head

To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
And dry the moisten'd curls that overspread
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep;
And they who stand about the rich man's bed
Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweep,

And softly part his curtains to allow
Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow.

Go;-but the circle of eternal change,

Which is the life of nature, shall restore,

With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range,
Thee to thy birth-place of the deep once more;
Sweet odours in the sea-air, sweet and strange,
Shall tell the home-sick mariner of the shore ;
And, listening to thy murmur, he shall deem
He hears the rustling leaf and running stream.

SONG OF THE STARS.

WHEN the radiant morn of creation broke,
And the world in the smile of God awoke,
And the empty realms of darkness and death

Were moved through their depths by His mighty breath,

And orbs of beauty, and spheres of flame,

From the void abyss by myriads came;

In the joy of youth, as they darted away,
Through the widening wastes of space to play,
Their silver voices in chorus rung,

And this was the song the bright ones sung.

"Away, away, through the wide, wide sky,
The fair blue fields that before us lie;

Each sun, with the worlds that around him roll,
Each planet, poised on her turning pole,
With her isles of green, and her clouds of white,
And her waters that lie like fluid light.

"For the Source of glory uncovers His face,
And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space;
And we drink, as we go, the luminous tides,
In our ruddy air, and our blooming sides:
Lo, yonder the living splendours play!
Away, on our joyous path, away!

"Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar,

In the infinite azure, star after star,

How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass!

How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass!

And the path of the gentle winds is seen,

Where the small waves dance, and the young woods

lean.

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