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Castle Windows. 
 
 BY 
 
 LATHAM CORNELL STRONG. 
 
 ?3 
 
 TROY, N. Y. : 
 
 H. B. NIMS & CO. 
 
 1876. 
 
76 ^in 
 
 Copyright, 
 
 H. B. NIMS & CO. 
 
 1876. 
 
 New York : Lange, Little & Co., Printers, 
 Nos. 10 to 20 Astor Place. 
 
THESE 
 
 POOR IVY LEAVES, 
 
 WHICH HAVE CLAMBERED ABOUT 
 
 MY Castle Windows in Spain, 
 
 g guXmtCf 
 
 WITH RENEWED REGARD AND ESTEEM, TO MY FRIEND, 
 
 Francis Theodore Patton (McLeod Noyes), 
 
 IN REMEMBRANCE OF 
 
 THE MANY HAPPY HOURS SPENT TOGETHER 
 
 IN THE Golden Meadows of 
 
 THE PAST. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 When '* Heidelberg Castle" was written, about two 
 years ago, and subsequently when most of the longer 
 poems now printed with it, and which seemed to be so 
 fair in the first ardor of their composition, had been 
 completed, I had few doubts as to the propriety of pub- 
 lishing them. Since, however, I have returned from my 
 excursion into cloudland, and in soberer mood have 
 contemplated my little cabinet of curiosities and sou- 
 venirs gathered there with so much enthusiasm, the 
 hazard of the choice between probable temerity in sub- 
 mitting them to the public, and the possibly greater 
 folly of a too rigid self-repression in turning the key 
 upon them forever, has rapidly grown until it has as- 
 sumed colossal proportions. It is unpleasant to picture 
 Apollo, fresh from Olympus, radiant with immortal 
 youth, alighting on the plains with his lyre slung across 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 his shoulders, and at once assuming the attitude of self- 
 defense ; but poets have never been spared the applica- 
 tion of indignant cudgels until they have made good 
 their claims to the fields to which they have descended, 
 and on which they would dwell at peace with all men. 
 How many flaws there may be in the title-deeds here- 
 with offered, it is impossible to say ; but the author has a 
 reasonable confidence that they will not all be discovered 
 by any one reader. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Perversity 9 
 
 The Rhyme of Thula lO 
 
 The Treasure of the Tropic Seas 23 
 
 When Baby Died 45 
 
 Under the Wreck 49 
 
 After the Rain 53 
 
 A Summer Idyl 56 
 
 West Point 63 
 
 The Fever 66 
 
 To a Coquette 74 
 
 In the Singer's Place 77 
 
 Who will Care in the Coming Year 79 
 
 Beautiful Eyes 82 
 
 Baby at the Window 85 
 
 A Stricken Home 8g 
 
 Broken Windows 97 
 
 What the Brook Said 99 
 
 Golden Meadows 103 
 
 Vistas 107 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 Quest 112 
 
 Looking Down the Western Hills 115 
 
 Cinderella 117 
 
 The Herdsman of Baiae 121 
 
 Castilian 137 
 
 Llewellyn 140 
 
 Poor Old Ralph 143 
 
 The Phantom Schooner 146 
 
 Bonnie Belle 150 
 
 Shadows 153 
 
 Impanelling a Jury 156 
 
 The Russian Ball 157 
 
 Our Rifle Team 167 
 
 The Statue 170 
 
 Into the Light 174 
 
 Homespun : A Fragment 176 
 
 -The Vampire 1 79 
 
 Moonlight on the Water 180 
 
 The Invisible Prince. . , 183 
 
 The Owl 189 
 
 A Centurion Dying at the Gates of Rome 190 
 
 On the Steps of the Vatican 194 
 
 The Mystery of Heidelberg Castle 201 
 
Castle Windows 
 
 PERVERSITY. 
 This path was hedged with plants and flowers ; 
 Through fruited trees shone lofty towers, 
 And stairways white, and fountains tall, 
 With waving banners over all. 
 
 That path was hedged with noxious weeds— 
 Across a marshy tract of reeds, 
 And down a devious, somber lane. 
 It led into some gloomy plain. 
 
 Now scarce a traveler stopped to gaze. 
 But dropping careless word of praise, 
 With swinging step, and easy load. 
 He sauntered down the gloomy road ! 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. 
 
 She leaned o'er the Gothic window wall ; 
 
 He sat in the edge of the waving wheat ; 
 She was a dainty princess small, 
 
 He was an oaf with pointed feet. 
 Over the castle, in the sun, 
 
 Fluttered the banners, green and gold ; 
 Up from the meadows, one by one. 
 Nodded the antlers through the wold. 
 Birds flew over 
 The corn and clover, 
 And swarmed like bees on the bended tree, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy ! 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. ii 
 
 II. 
 
 She lowered her silken tresses down, 
 
 And out they blew in a cloud of gold ; 
 He skipped from the wayside heather brown 
 
 Unto the porch of the castle old. 
 She laughed in the merry noontime there, 
 
 As he clung to the casement arched and tall, 
 And climbed by her silken, shining hair, 
 Over the Gothic window wall. 
 Sweet the noontime. 
 Fair the June-time, 
 Birds were singing in maddest glee, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy 1 
 
 III. 
 Now through the winding halls they glide, 
 
 Through purple windows the sunshine slants ; 
 Twisted columns on either side 
 
 Of silver-in-pearl the eyes entrance. 
 She at his side, with aiiy grace. 
 
 Leans to the words of a lute-like spell, 
 
12 . CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Flutters her fan in his homely face, 
 
 And laughs that an oaf should talk so well. 
 
 Faintly ringing, 
 
 Bells are swinging 
 Elfland echoes along the lea, 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
 IV. 
 
 Beside the turret window then 
 
 His vows he murmured fliint and low, 
 And the princess merrily laughed again. 
 
 And shaped her eyes to a yes and no. 
 And then to his grizzled face, she read 
 
 His homely outline through and through ; 
 And twirling her silken scarf, she said, 
 
 * ' Who would marry an oaf like you ? " 
 Around the towers. 
 And in the flowers. 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. I3 
 
 The birds are twittering angrily, 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy 1 
 
 V. 
 
 As a dragon-fly in the river reeds 
 
 Hustles his threadbare cloak aside, 
 The oaf in a trice flung ofl" his weeds. 
 
 And stood transformed in a splendid pride. 
 Gaily there, with the violet glooms 
 Fretting his tunic's silk, a lord. 
 Blue and white were his waving plumes. 
 Bossed with pearl was his dainty sword. 
 The lily lowly, 
 Swinging slowly. 
 Hid in its bosom the dozing bee, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy ! 
 
14 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Now at her feet, in gems and lace, 
 
 The young lord kneels on the velvet floor. 
 Her hand he kisses with charming grace, 
 
 And repeats his merry words once more. 
 She looks in his eyes with sweet surprise, 
 
 ' ' Thula, the princess, wed a lord ? 
 Nay" — and the little maiden sighs — 
 ''What can your noble house afford ? " 
 Slyly peeping, 
 A mouse out creeping, 
 Reached through the window-vines to see ; 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
 VII. 
 
 ''What can your house afford like these? " 
 And out at the sunshine-checkered lawn 
 
 She waved her hand where the aisles of trees. 
 The parks of cedar, and golden fawn, 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. I5 
 
 The fragrant dells with their citron shade, 
 And the almond groves with their glimpse of 
 
 blue, 
 Where the sea-line glitters above the glade, 
 Broke in their beauty upon the view. 
 
 Tall-capped grasses 
 
 In moving masses, 
 Like grenadiers, marched to the sea ; 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 By an inner door of cedarn wood. 
 
 Richly fretted with carvings quaint, 
 She bade him gaze, and in silence stood, 
 
 Shrined in her hair like a gloried saint. 
 What did he see ? Through the open door 
 
 A white-haired sire, and a mother old, 
 A group of children upon the floor, 
 
 With a greyhound jumping a hoop of gold. 
 
i6 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 From crevice mossy 
 
 A sparrow saucy 
 Hopped on the window and chirped with glee, 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy 1 
 
 IX. 
 
 He stamped his foot within the hall, 
 He claspt a jewel upon her wrist, 
 When lo ! the castle, pillar and wall. 
 
 Dissolved and faded into mist ! 
 The towers were faintly outlined there, 
 Around about like a phantom court. 
 Enchanted all, in the amber air. 
 Battlement tall, and bannered fort ! 
 Birds were singing. 
 Bells were ringing, 
 Faintly murmured the distant sea. 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. 17 
 
 X. 
 
 Here in a broad pavilion's shade, 
 
 Nodding his plumes, he softly said, 
 ** These my house can afford the maid. 
 
 Who one like me for his love would wed." 
 Interspaces of summer sky, 
 
 Amid a tremulous maze of leaves, 
 Let fall aslant in the garden nig.h, 
 
 The sunlight faint on the fountain sheaves, 
 And down the meadow. 
 In sun and shadow. 
 White horses galloped with nostrils free, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
 XI. 
 
 Tall trees pillared a stately court, 
 Broad-based stairways upward ran ; 
 
 Tropical birds in wanton sport. 
 Swiftly flew in the palms of fan. 
 
i8 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 A pleasaunce realm is this, where sits 
 
 A shadow faint in the great green trees. 
 And wafts sweet odorous balm, by fits, 
 
 O'er leaves of myrrh on the passing breeze. 
 
 And still are ringing, 
 
 Sweetly swinging, 
 Fairy bells by lake and lea, 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
 XII. 
 
 Through a mazy mist the maiden views 
 
 The stately dome, and the marble halls, 
 The windows tinted with iris hues, 
 
 The peacock strutting upon the walls ; 
 The fountain tall, with its triple plumes 
 
 Dancing there in the fragrant air. 
 And the colonnades with tropic blooms, 
 
 That prankt with vines the winding stair ; 
 The nodding tula 
 Murmurs *'Thula." 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. 19 
 
 "Thula," 'Thula," the bird and bee ; 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
 XIII. 
 
 ** Fairer, my lord, than mine is yours ! " 
 
 The princess, smiling sweetly, said ; 
 '* Tho' I've a choice of fairy wooers, 
 
 You are the one with whom I'll wed. 
 Fairer far these lofty towers. 
 
 And terrace gardens faint and sweet, 
 Than all the wealth of my castle bowers, 
 Than loving home and pleasures meet' 
 Words discreetly 
 Voiced so sweetly 
 Were echoed faintly from the sea, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time. 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy ! 
 
20 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 He tapped his foot upon the lawn, 
 
 And loosed the jewel from her wrist, 
 And lo ! the fairy realm was gone, 
 
 And the castle old in its place uprist ! 
 Beside her, kneeling upon the floor, 
 
 The young lord clasped her dainty hand ; 
 *' Arise ! " she said ; '* ere the day is o'er, 
 Your bride will follow you through the land 1 
 The sparrows scold in 
 The branches golden, 
 Lifting their wings in the bended tree, 
 All in the rhyme 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 Alas ! in a hut she dwells forlorn. 
 Driven about, with curse and blow, 
 
 Down to the fields to gather corn, 
 Up to the well-spring, to and fro ! 
 
THE RHYME OF THULA. 21 
 
 He but an oaf with pointed feet, 
 
 She but a wife grown old with care ; 
 She no longer a princess sweet, 
 He no longer an elfin fair I 
 
 Birds outflying, 
 
 Faint are crying, 
 Gone is our kingdom by the sea : 
 
 All in the rhyme 
 
 Of an ancient time, 
 That was full of mirth and minstrelsy I 
 
THE TREASURE 
 OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 
 
Where the air is hot, a)id the trees bend down 
 
 In the southerji noons to the tropic rays. 
 Long, pendulous tresses, matted and brown. 
 
 That the fierce heats vex through the languid days; 
 Whei'e the bhie waves break into stra^tge, low words 
 
 As they reach far up on the burning sands, 
 There are regions sweeter with song of birds 
 
 And tropical airs than our noi'thern lands. 
 
 Sweeter with love of the passionate fiowers. 
 
 With skies that twinkle with purple and gold. 
 And tall, arched palnis, that in stately towers 
 
 Are bastioned with cocoas and laurels old. 
 That are pillared with pines in the depths below. 
 
 The haunt of the myriad shining things 
 That flash in the sunlight to and fro. 
 
 In a ceaseless flutter of rainbow wings. 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC 
 
 SEAS. 
 
 **What if the weary years have fled, 
 
 And hearts are crushed, and friends are dead, 
 
 And loves are sundered one by one, 
 
 And all things bright beneath the sun 
 
 Become but glimpses of the past — 
 
 They bring us to our own at last ! 
 
 ''Yon homestead wears unto the gaze 
 The dear old look of other days, 
 And stands, low-eaved, with chimney tall, 
 Above the moss-grown garden wall. 
 And from the meadow, through the lane, 
 Swinging from side to side, the wain, 
 Tilt from the top with clover new, 
 Drawn by the oxen, meets the view. 
 
26 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 With slanting wings the swallows skim 
 Close to the old barn's jutting rim : 
 And yonder, leaning o'er the gate 
 That leads out to the fields, await 
 The whinnying horses, fenced within 
 For fare of oats fresh from the bin. 
 The well-sweep, by the path below, 
 Seems just the same that, long ago, 
 The hot midsummer season through. 
 Buckets of clear, cool water drew. 
 I hear at times the tinkling sound 
 Of bells, where woolly flocks abound, 
 And catch the music faint and sweet 
 Of village voices down the street ; 
 Where oft we strayed ere Alfred Lee 
 Left yonder homestead for the sea ; 
 Left hearth and home and scenes as dear 
 As those that greet my vision here ; 
 And with him trusty friends and tried, 
 Who now are scattered far and wide. 
 His message, and for whom ? alas ! 
 The years in swift succession pass — 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 27 
 
 Counting them over so and so, 
 *Tis more than twenty years ago — 
 And who remain to list, or care 
 To hear the message that I bear ? 
 Not one, perhaps, whose heart has beat 
 For years at sound of coming feet. 
 With wild, fond yearning o'er and o'er, 
 To clasp the loved one at the door." 
 
 This said he in the clover down, 
 
 Beneath the oaks beyond the town, 
 
 Where by the road a grateful shade 
 
 Was cast, and where, through tilth and glade, 
 
 A running brook wound in and out, 
 
 And, with the hum of bees about 
 
 The brank above, made silence sweet 
 
 And musical through summer's heat. 
 
 Bronzed by the suns of eastern seas. 
 
 Gray-haired, but lithe of limb, at ease 
 
 He stood, shading his eyes to gaze 
 
 Again on scenes of olden days. 
 
28 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Then by the dusty highway sought 
 
 The homestead, fain, of saddened thought, 
 
 Old friends to greet. 
 
 Now, through the wold 
 Glimmered the sunset's mellowed gold, 
 And Donald Lee sat where the breeze 
 Came cool across the marshy leas ; 
 Sat by the open window, where 
 The scent of lilacs filled the air ; 
 And as he watched the drifted spray 
 Of sunset clouds, at close of day, 
 He fancied — gazing thus the while 
 At beach of blue and silver isle, 
 Palmed white, like lilies in the sun 
 Just when the golden day was done — 
 He saw a ship sink from the sight, 
 As sometimes, in his dreams at night, 
 When on the mad waves, tempest-torn, 
 A pale, brave face was upward borne. 
 — The goodwife, knitting by the door. 
 Had dropped her work, and glancing o'er 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 29 
 
 Her glasses, caught his thoughts, and sighed — 
 
 For well remembered were the pride 
 
 And love a mother's heart had felt 
 
 When Alfred Lee beside her knelt. 
 
 Thus, sitting in the evening still, 
 
 They heard the far-off whippoorwill, 
 
 While from the meadow's deepening shade, 
 
 The crickets plaintive chirping made ; 
 
 When by the gate a stranger stood, 
 
 Whom thought of home, perhaps, had wooed, 
 
 They said, for hospitable cheer. 
 
 Rest, and relief, and comfort, here. 
 
 They bade him welcome — spread the board 
 
 With viands from their humble hoard, 
 
 And Donald, in his farmer way, 
 
 Talked of the topics of the day, 
 
 Such as the fruitage, yield of grain, 
 
 The growth of grass, the need of rain, 
 
 And kindred subjects ; but the guest, 
 
 Of absent mood, ill feigned a zest 
 
 In theme bucolic ; so the host, 
 
 Persuaded thus, to charm him most, 
 
30 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 After the evening meal was through, 
 
 And pipes were lit, of what was new 
 
 In other fields with skill conversed. 
 
 And then the story sad rehearsed 
 
 Of Alfred Lee, long years astray, 
 
 When spake the stranger in his way : 
 
 *' Stay, good my friends, / knew him well, 
 
 And hither from the sea, to tell 
 
 His story, as he told it me, 
 
 I come, well known of Alfred Lee." 
 
 The old folks, tearful-eyed and pale. 
 
 Scarce gave full credence to the tale, 
 
 But hung upon the words be said, 
 
 As 'twere a message from the dead : 
 
 *' The lighthouse faded from the sight 
 By ten, and glided to the right 
 Behind old Cheviot Ledge — and Lee, 
 Pacing the deck twelve leagues at sea. 
 Now bitterly complained the fate 
 That led him seaward — but too late 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 31 
 
 Were longings then, or bitter tears ; 
 And all the grief of later years 
 Centered in one fond dream of home. 
 On sped the good ship through the foam. 
 Cleaving the blue waves night and day, 
 Past walls of white, and isles of gray, 
 With groves of orange and of palm 
 On either side, through seas acalm. 
 To Oriental port, to trade. 
 The ship, in freighting, long delayed. 
 Exchanging cargoes, wool and maize 
 For silks and spices ; so the days 
 Lengthened to weeks of idle weather. 
 
 *' And here we spent the time together, 
 As best we could ; leaving the bay. 
 We beat the shore at break of day. 
 When like a ghost the moon bent under 
 The western world, as clouds asunder 
 Were rent by rays of tropic heat ; 
 Or from the deck the tiny fleet 
 
32 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Of native boats we watched for hours, 
 Laden with plantain, fruit, and flowers, 
 Glide in and out, and smoothly slip 
 Beneath the shadow of the ship. 
 But when upon the azure main. 
 The vessel spread its sails again. 
 Like sea-bird bending to its flight, 
 Its white wings glowing in the light, 
 A glad form rose upon the view. 
 And shoreward waved a last adieu. 
 The skies bent down to ship and sea. 
 And closed at last on Alfred Lee. 
 
 '' Our lives are set by storm and sun. 
 And through a change of seasons run, 
 Much as the meadow or the main, 
 Though oft you know by grief or pain 
 The heavens are clouded o'er and o'er, 
 Till hope seems gone forevermore. 
 Like patriarchs had passed away 
 With burdened shoulders, through the gray, 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 33 
 
 Dim twilight to the dead, the years, 
 With alternating hopes and fears ; 
 To Alfred Lee, grown old with grief. 
 Their pilgrim steps brought no relief. 
 
 *' Where down the purple slope that slants 
 Across the hills, the sun-rays glance 
 With hot stare through the cocoa-trees, 
 And wine-palms tent beside the seas. 
 To Port-of-Spain, long leagues away, 
 Just as the mellow mist of day 
 Was glowing in the east, there came 
 A wayworn man, whose feeble frame 
 And weary step and silent tears. 
 Meant more of sorrow than of years. 
 But when he saw the seaport town, 
 With houses bamboo-thatched and brown, 
 And marked each winding lane and street, 
 Cool-shaded from the tropic heat. 
 He bent him prone upon the ground 
 For this — that he at last had found 
 
34 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 What brought a worn heart hope of rest. 
 
 'Twas Alfred Lee — thrice happy blest 
 
 For all the madness he had borne, 
 
 The anguish that his heart had torn, 
 
 The grief that left him gaunt and gray, 
 
 The night-long yearning for the day. 
 
 And so they pitied him, and knew 
 
 By sadd'ning sign — good friends and true — 
 
 A life was drawing to a close 
 
 With all its hidden wants and woes. 
 
 And so unto a home half hid 
 
 By wealth of vines, that stood amid 
 
 An almond grove beside the sea. 
 
 They led poor, dying Alfred Lee. 
 
 " The night was hot, and faint, and still- 
 The moon, above the wooded hill, 
 A line of silver lances pressed 
 Across the sea-waves to the west. 
 The bell-bird, with metallic throat, 
 Sounded a dull and doleful note, 
 
 2* 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 35 
 
 And in the distant depths of wood 
 
 The bittern broke the solitude. 
 
 But, save the sound of sea and bird, 
 
 Scarce anything the silence stirred. 
 
 Now through the cottage windows, turned 
 
 To feeble glow, the night-lamp burned ; 
 
 And fainter still the sad heart wore 
 
 Throughout the night, though often o'er 
 
 His haggard face a strange light shone, 
 
 As reason would resume its throne ; 
 
 When, half-way rising from the bed, 
 
 * Yes, going home,' he feebly said. 
 
 Before he laid him down to die. 
 
 He told his sufferings, and why 
 
 No tidings reached his friends — and then 
 
 He pictured o'er and o'er again 
 
 The home his fond heart loved so well. 
 
 And this the tale he told to me 
 
 There, in that home beside the sea : 
 
 " 'First weather fair, then stormy sail, 
 Then sun again, and then a gale, 
 
36 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Rounding the Cape, that beat amain 
 With such a run of cloud and rain, 
 That when the winds had ceased to blow, 
 Our ship was scarce seaworthy — so 
 At last, upon a moonless night, 
 She sank — and when the morning light 
 Shone on the lifted white caps, none 
 Remained of all on board, save one, 
 Who, stranded on a reach of land, 
 Lay half unconscious on the sand. 
 A lonely isle in tropic seas, 
 Thick-clustered to the peak with trees. 
 Full-fruited in the sun, and rills 
 That glimmered down the rifted bills, 
 Sustained the life the sea had saved, 
 And gave what nourishment it craved. 
 Above a tall fern on the slope 
 I set a shred of sail, with hope 
 That from the blue horizon line 
 Some passing ship would mark the sign ; 
 Some sailor, from his lookout, chance 
 To catch the signal in his glance. 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 37 
 
 But all in vain — alas ! I knew 
 
 No such a sign the long years through. 
 
 " * Wild cliff and chasm I passed in turn, 
 Thick with the growth of shrub and fern, 
 And scarlet blaze of tangled vines 
 Dropped low in curved and broken lines ; 
 While flash of birds through miles of wood 
 Relieved the tropic solitude. 
 And now and then, through lofty trees, 
 The moan of hollow-throated seas. 
 Sobbing against the rocky reef. 
 Arose, as if to mock my grief; 
 While chattering apes through tree-tops ran, 
 Nor feared the footsteps strange, of man. 
 
 " ^ I thatched with bark a cabin rude, 
 Beneath the curtain of the wood. 
 And day by day, betwixt the trees, 
 Scanned, with an anxious eye, the seas ; 
 While through the watches of the night 
 The signal blazed upon the height — 
 
38 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Burned with a steady glow, afar 
 Across the waves, a flaming star. 
 
 " * The fringes of the forest hung 
 
 In wild luxuriance among 
 
 Broad aisles of palm and cinnamon ; 
 
 Where oft, between the sea and sun. 
 
 The flight of tropic birds gleamed through 
 
 Like bits of rainbow on the blue. 
 
 And in the dull, hot afternoons 
 
 The hum of bees, and chorussed tunes 
 
 At intervals, through maze of boughs. 
 
 Made eyelids heavy and adrowse. 
 
 Thus, seaward gazing from the door, 
 
 I watched, below, the shingled shore 
 
 Lengthen to meadows far and still ; 
 
 I saw the old church on the hill. 
 
 The dear home sheltered by the oaks, 
 
 The bars beyond the brook ; the folks 
 
 Idling about the village store ; 
 
 The hayfield where we toiled of yore, 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 39 
 
 In heat of summer ; and the glade, 
 Cool with its lengths of hawthorn shade ; 
 The loved ones at the porch — and then, 
 Lone stretch of sky and sea again. 
 
 *' ' So passed the years. But once, around 
 
 A high-peaked promontory, crowned 
 
 With wild volcanic rock, I swung, 
 
 Grasping the creeping vines, that hung 
 
 Above a wild chasm rifted wide. 
 
 And down its ribbed and riven side 
 
 Unto the white beach and the spray. 
 
 I stood beside a little bay 
 
 Curved 'neath the fern trees bending o'er. 
 
 But there was that upon the shore 
 
 That made my heart beat wild and fast ; 
 
 I found the remnant of a mast, 
 
 Part sunken, lying slantingwise, 
 
 And nigh it bits of merchandise, 
 
 Some spars, a broken anchor, and 
 
 A chest half buried in the sand ; 
 
40 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 A quaint old chest of iron, chased 
 With lines the sea had nigh erased. 
 ***** 
 
 *' * A crazed man sat beside his door, 
 Upon an island, gloating o'er 
 His treasure, and a day and night 
 Passed one another in their flight ; 
 And still he sat, and through his hands 
 A something gleamed like glowing sands. 
 Jewels, numberless in the sun, 
 Slipped from his fingers, one by one, 
 And in the moonlight brightly shone 
 Diamond, pearl, and emerald stone. 
 And from a chest flung open wide, 
 Ingots of gold, and bars, beside. 
 Of silver, tranced the vision ; more 
 Than wealth of princes here in store. 
 
 ** * A weird face, lifted from the seas, 
 Shook high its white locks in the breeze ; 
 It reached far up the sloping land 
 And clutched me with its misty hand. 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 41 
 
 I started from my gold, and gave 
 
 An angry gesture to the wave ; 
 
 And then my grief came back to me, 
 
 The lonely isle, the shore, the sea. 
 
 The shipwreck of the years ago. 
 
 The pain that only they can know 
 
 Who suffer solitude, and die 
 
 An hundred deaths and live — as I. 
 
 But when the stormy seas were still. 
 
 And through the ferns that fringed the hill 
 
 The hot rays glimmered down the glen, 
 
 And chorussed songs rang out again, 
 
 I builded castles, towered tall. 
 
 That stretched unto the blue sea wall. 
 
 And from their windows watched in vain 
 
 For sign of sail across the main. 
 
 " ' I was the monarch of an isle. 
 In wretchedness to dwell, the while 
 Heart-sick and worn ; and then to rave 
 O'er all the wealth the heart could crave, 
 
42 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And watch and wait, the long years through, 
 For some dear face across the blue, 
 And then — all this — and then to glide 
 Out seaward with the turning tide. 
 
 * * Soon, in the silver age of man 
 Before my time, I ceased to plan 
 For that which gold alone can bring, 
 Nor cared for life or anything ; 
 But wandered up and down the wood, 
 And learned to love its solitude ; 
 Or watched the blue waves through the trees, 
 And dreamed of home across the seas. 
 The birds, that knew me, as I walked. 
 Flew circling round, and sang, and talked 
 Of happier lands and brighter skies, 
 With plaintive pity in their eyes. 
 
 *' ' Who stood upon the cliffs with me, 
 With hands outstretched unto the sea, 
 And motioned to the tide, and said : 
 *' No grief disturbs the blessed dead ".? 
 
THE TREASURE OF THE TROPIC SEAS. 43 
 
 Who pointed downward to the deep, 
 Crooning its nodding waves to sleep, 
 And urged my fainting heart to quell 
 Such anguish as no tongue can tell ? 
 With firm resolve, and purpose bold, 
 I gathered up my treasured gold, 
 And as the jewels, one by one. 
 With rainbow radiance in the sun, 
 Flashed into flame and dazzled me, 
 I flung them out into the sea ! 
 In lines and curves of brilliant glow 
 They sank into the waves below ; 
 No prince, with largess at command, 
 E'er gave it with a freer hand, 
 Or laughed more wildly to behold 
 The struggle for his scattered gold. 
 And then, at last ! deep in the west. 
 As, glistening on the ocean's breast, 
 The last bright jewel dropped from view, 
 There shot a white gleam from the blue. 
 There came, as one first sees the light 
 When long years blind — a sail in sight! 
 
44 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 * * As poor as when I left, to roam, 
 I set a strange face toward my home, 
 And landed here upon your strand, 
 A wand'rer from a foreign land.' 
 
 ** This was the story that he told. 
 
 " Dead, did you say ? No, no, but old, 
 And worn with waiting to be free. 
 Dear ones, this record of the sea 
 Is mine — ^for I am Alfred Lee.'' 
 
WHEN BABY DIED. 
 
 The day the Baby died, the flowers 
 
 Drooped o'er the leaf, 
 And birds, within the shady bowers. 
 
 Piped plaintively their grief. 
 And through the garden, in the sun, 
 It seemed as if the day were done. 
 When Baby died 1 
 
 As if o'er all the land a sudden blight 
 
 Had withered flower and leaf in one short breath ; 
 
 Unto a mother's heart day turned to night, 
 As life to death. 
 
 While to her now comes back with sudden tears 
 The winsome face, the tossing curls aglow, 
 The little feet that pattered to and fro. 
 
46 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The angel wisdom of three happy years, 
 All ending with such suddenness of woe, 
 When Baby died ! 
 
 From out the drawer she takes, with trembling care, 
 The little shoes that Baby used to wear. 
 Ah ! but the silence of the missing feet, 
 The tearful vision of the face so sweet. 
 
 Baby's dead 1 
 Put in its place away the curl of hair — 
 Nay, she will press it to her lips again, 
 And, dreaming of the years that might have been, 
 The mother folds her hands in speechless prayer. 
 Baby's dead 1 
 
 Why, Baby was the playmate of the birds — 
 They missed him ere the second day was gone, 
 
 And twittered round the porch with pleading words; 
 But silent was his voice upon the lawn ! 
 
 The hoop lay where he left it by the wall. 
 
 The swing was motionless, and over all 
 
WHEN BAB V DIED. 47 
 
 Such silence seemed to reign, 
 
 That from the lonely room the sob of pain 
 Was echoed in sad hearts, although they knew 
 Their little friend the shining gates passed through, 
 When Baby died ! 
 
 His g>'psy dog no more will bear the rein, 
 Nor draw about his tiny cart again. 
 The hands are crossed — the little soul is free, 
 And Baby sleeps beneath the churchyard tree. 
 No more against his mother's face he'll press 
 His dainty cheek, with many a coy caress ; 
 No more he'll clasp his little hands and pray. 
 In words she taught his rosy lips to say ; 
 
 Nor will he blithely talk 
 Of things so wise beyond his baby years. 
 Put in their place the playthings that he left ; 
 
 About the house each dear, remembered walk 
 Brings to a mother's eyes the blinding tears, 
 Since her fond heart was of its joy bereft, 
 When Baby died ! 
 
48 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 So, leave the chamber to its silent gloom, 
 
 And put aside the little cradle bed. 
 And draw the curtains ; close the sacred room — 
 
 'Tis filled with mournful mem'ries of the dead. 
 For e'en the pictures hanging on the wall, 
 
 Some thoughts recall, 
 That start the tears unbidden ; and the vine 
 
 That clusters round the windows still will keep 
 Its flowers nodding in the shade, and shine 
 
 To greet him when he wakens from his sleep. 
 
 Baby's dead ! 
 And all in vain crushed hearts must reason why 
 Their loved ones in their bloom and beauty die. 
 Life holds but love alone, sufficient worth 
 To bind our weary feet unto the earth ; 
 And hearts are breaking for the love they lost, 
 When some dear soul the shadowy river crossed I 
 
UNDER THE WRECK. 
 
 She clasps her dainty hands so fine ; 
 They quaff deep cups of golden wine. 
 
 She pledges thus, with brimming chalice, 
 ''The guests that throng the sea-king's palace." 
 
 Throughout the halls responsive stirred 
 The lips that could not utter word. 
 
 And men and women in the glow 
 Are moving weirdly to and fro. 
 
 What is she like, the sea-king's daughter ? 
 Her eyes are stars upon the water. 
 
50 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Her smile is like the moonlight pale, 
 That frets a fairy's purple sail ; 
 
 And like the sea-dawn in its hue, 
 The braidings of her mantle blue. 
 
 Down through the depths a throng doth glide 
 Beneath the ever-swaying tide. 
 
 Up broad, white steps they seek the hall ; 
 An utter silence presses all. 
 
 And men and women in the glow 
 Are moving weirdly to and fro. 
 
 Past pages bowing at the door. 
 Past butlers prone upon the floor. 
 
 Past pacing sentries grim and old. 
 With lifted faces white and cold. 
 
 Wearing a sad, sweet smile of joy, 
 A mother clasps her fair-haired boy. 
 
UNDER THE WRECK. 51 
 
 A child, with locks of tangled gold, 
 Lifts up its white hands, thin and cold. 
 
 And men and women in the glow 
 Are moving weirdly to and fro. 
 
 In tasselled cap a fisher lad 
 Goes slowly by with features sad. 
 
 A sailor scans, with trembling hand, 
 The outlines of a distant land. 
 
 And from the balcony above, 
 
 A white-robed lady waits her love. 
 
 Two sisters clasped, uncertain seem 
 To move their heads, as in a dream. 
 
 Upon the sea-rock's jasper bed 
 An old man sits with bended head. 
 
 Within a wide- pavilioned court 
 The sea-king's jester nods in sport, 
 
52 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Nodding his bells with listless eye, 
 As silently they pass him by. 
 
 And men and women in the glow 
 Are moving weirdly to and fro. 
 
 Then with her dainty hand so fine, 
 She lifts the cup of golden wine. 
 
 And pledges thus, with brimming chalice, 
 
 ** The guests that throng the sea-king's palace." 
 
 Throughout the halls responsive stirred 
 The lips that could not utter word. 
 
 And men and women in the glow 
 Are moving weirdly to and fro. 
 
AFTER THE RAIN. 
 
 The hedges glisten with the rain, 
 
 The thunder mutters in the hills, 
 The mellow sunlight floods the plain. 
 The blue, wet woods are bright again, 
 And sweet the murmur of the rills. 
 
 I hear the sound of little feet, 
 
 And catch a glad, exulting cry, 
 As on the curtained window seat 
 Two little, roguish faces meet, 
 To see the rainbow in the sky. 
 
 The scent of roses fills the air. 
 
 The fragrance of the new-mown hay 
 Is blown across the meadows, where 
 The patient oxen meekly stare — 
 
 And silence marks the close of day. 
 
54 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The tumbling brook unceasing swirls, 
 The rainbow fades along the skies, 
 And as I clasp my little girls, 
 I note beneath their shining curls 
 Two little pairs of drowsy eyes. 
 
 The fresh, green leaves are just ajar, 
 
 And fluttering birds are chirping low ; 
 The village bell sounds faint and far. 
 And softly now the evening star 
 Above the hill begins to glow. 
 
 Two white-robed little ones to-night 
 
 Together kneel beside the bed ; 
 And as the moon, with fingers light, 
 Is pushing back the curtains white, 
 Two little prayers are softly said. 
 
 The night is come with mist and moon, 
 
 The falling waters sob and sing. 
 The crickets chant a measured tune. 
 And all the strange, sweet life of June 
 By day and night is worshiping. 
 
AFTER THE RAIN. 55 
 
 Two little darlings, fast asleep, 
 
 Together wander, hand in hand. 
 Through moonlit valleys still and deep, 
 And down the mountains dark and steep, 
 
 Into the realm of fairy-land. 
 
 And rustling pinions seem to glow. 
 And fill the room with tender light. 
 
 As if some angel, last to go, 
 
 Had lingered from the rest below, 
 To kiss the little ones good-night ! 
 
A SUMMER IDYL. 
 
 SiTTETH a maiden with forehead fair, 
 
 And soft gray eyes with joy complete, 
 Twining with roses her russet hair 
 
 In the shade of the garden, cool and sweet ; 
 Leaneth the lover below the trees, 
 
 Over the gate where the leafage green 
 Rises and falls in the dainty breeze. 
 
 And the struggling sunbeams slip between. 
 
 {'Tis a broke?! heart that cricth aloud ! 
 Oh ! smooth are the folds of the wedding-shroud ; 
 White bride lilies are on her breast, 
 And the coffin-pillow is lightly pressed I) 
 
A SUMMER IDYL. 57 
 
 The birds were singing through all the land, 
 
 And the white-capped daisy and hooded nun 
 Went nodding by fields of wheat and sand, 
 
 Down to the brook, in the summer sun ; 
 Lifteth the maiden her soft gray eyes ; 
 
 Unto the lover she smiles, and says, 
 ' * 'Tis here the four-leaved clover lies 
 
 That we sought together in bygone days." 
 
 (^Solemnly tolls the cathedral hell ! 
 What does its iron service tell ? 
 Darkness, despair, and silence cold, 
 Dust and decay and the graveyard mold!) 
 
 "Be this a token, my love, from me — " 
 
 As under the chestnut trees they stray — 
 ** Of a love that forever abides with thee — " 
 
 And she gives him the four-leaved clover spray. 
 A starling atilt on a thistle-head, 
 
 As the lover lifted her gypsy hat, 
 Warningly piped, as he swung and fed, 
 
 And scattered the seeds this way and that. 
 
58 CASTLE WINDOWS, 
 
 ( With a violet hue the sun-rays fall 
 Through the chancel pane , on the velvet pall ; 
 And the lilies have folded each waxen leaf 
 As one who claspeth his hands in grief l^ 
 
 Unto her cottage he leads his bride ; 
 
 Twinkles a star in the pale-blue west ; 
 Lingereth lovingly by his side 
 
 The maiden who seemeth of maidens blest. 
 **Be this a token, my love, from me — " 
 
 Haunteth her parting word — and hark I 
 " Of a love that forever abides with thee — " 
 
 Good night ! good night 1 and the day grows dark. 
 
 {^Slowly and sadly, in solemn state 
 
 The viourners pass through the churchyard gate ; 
 
 And the poplars seem, in a mute despair, 
 
 To bend like Druids their heads in prayer /) 
 
 Sunbrowned lover and gypsy maid ! 
 
 Why do the stars so gayly ride, 
 And joyfully into the purple shade 
 
 Drop down the west in the golden tide ? 
 
A SUMMER IDYL. 59 
 
 Do they bear away with their shining selves 
 
 A love, a memory, sweet and true, 
 While after the lover the white-plumed elves 
 
 Are tossing their slippers through the dew ? 
 
 [TTie wild wind moaneih with tender plaint. 
 And dies away i?t a whisper /aint ; 
 Harshly the grating earth is stirred ; 
 Often the stifled sob is heard/) 
 
 Summer has changed to Autumn gray ; 
 
 Lovers have parted, mayhap, ere this ; 
 Birds unmated have flown away, 
 
 And hearts have chilled at the bridal kiss. 
 He, most cruel, her heart deceives, 
 
 Laughingly crosses the broad blue main ; 
 She by her window sits and grieves, 
 
 Watching and waiting for him in vain 1 
 
 (^Solemn the words that the preacher saith : 
 That which we have we share with Deaths 
 And yield at last with a hopeful trust — 
 Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust /) 
 
6o CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And the elves are tinting the oaks with gold, 
 
 Their brown caps fluttering to the ground, 
 And clover meadows are bleak and cold, 
 
 And chilling winds have a lonesome sound ; 
 While, tangled in scarlet maze, the vines 
 
 Swing to the sill from the cottage eaves, 
 By the window where, dying, a maid reclines, 
 
 While plaintively moan the autumn leaves. 
 
 ( desolate hearth ! so cold, so dark, 
 No comfort now — not one faint spark ! 
 Only the death-bed flowers are left, 
 Faded and dull — of her love bereft !) 
 
 Returneth the wanderer home at last ; 
 
 Softly the summer sunshine falls 
 Over the pathways of the past, 
 
 And the cottage porch, and the castle walls. 
 *' Be this a token, my love, from me " — 
 
 To his lips he presseth a faded leaf — 
 *' Of a love that forever abides with thee ! " 
 
 And his heart is bowed with a bitter grief. 
 
A SUMMER IDYL. 6l 
 
 i^A hit of broidery left undone, 
 Folded there in the slanting sun, 
 A glove, a ribbon, a silken skein, 
 Bring to the heart such throbs of pain /) 
 
 Now to her cottage home he hies. 
 
 The bees are murmuring down the croft, 
 And, hid by a cloud in the dappled skies, 
 
 Swooneth the lark in his song aloft. 
 Silent and chill is the waiting-room, 
 
 Strangely deserted the oaken hall ; 
 Now he beholdeth, amid the gloom. 
 
 The funeral garlands — and knoweth all ! 
 
 {^Stealthily hide your thoughts to-day ; 
 Bury the past in its grave away ; 
 We catch but glimpses of Heaven below. 
 As the golden gates swing to and fro I) 
 
 Half in the sunshine, violet hid, 
 
 And far from the stir of the busy street 
 Lieth the grave of his love, amid 
 
 Wild brier, thyme, and primrose sweet. 
 
62 
 
 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Close to the shaft of marble stone 
 
 Clingeth the clover white and red, 
 And its sweet wild blooms, in the breezes blown, 
 
 Are a token still from the heart of the dead I 
 
WEST POINT. 
 
 Commencement eve ! and the ballroom belle, 
 
 In her dazzling beauty, was mine that night, 
 As the music dreamily rose and fell, 
 
 And the waltzers whirled in a blaze of light. 
 I can see them now, in the moonbeam's glance. 
 
 Across the street, on a billowy floor. 
 That rises and falls with the merry dance. 
 
 To a music that floats in my heart once more 
 
 A long half hour in the twilight leaves 
 
 Of the shrubbery — she, with coquettish face. 
 
 And dainty arms in their flowing sleeves, 
 A dream of satins, and love, and lace. 
 
64 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 In the splendor there of her queenly smile, 
 
 Through her two bright eyes, I could see the glow 
 
 Of cathedral windows, as up the aisle 
 We marched to a music's ebb and flow. 
 
 All in a dream of Commencement eve, 
 
 I remember I awkwardly buttoned a glove 
 On the dainty arm, in its flowing sleeve, 
 
 With a broken sentence of hope and love. 
 But the diamonds that flashed in her wavy hair, 
 
 And the beauty that shone in her faultless face 
 Are all I recall, as I struggled there, 
 
 A poor brown fly, in a web of lace. 
 
 Yet a laughing, coquettish face I see, 
 
 As the moonlight falls on the pavement gray, 
 And I hear her laugh in the melody 
 
 Of the waltz's music across the way. 
 And I kept the glove, so dainty and small. 
 
 That I stole as she sipped- her lemonade. 
 Till I packed it away, I think, with all 
 
 Of those traps I lost on our Northern raid. 
 
WEST POINT. 65 
 
 But I never can list to that waltz divine, 
 
 With its golden measure of joy and pain, 
 But it brings, like the flavor of some old wine, 
 
 To my heart the warmth of the past again. 
 A short flirtation — that's all — ^you know. 
 
 Some faded flowers, a silken tress, 
 The letters I burned up years ago, 
 
 When I heard from her last in the Wilderness. 
 
 I suppose, could she see I am maimed and old, 
 
 She would soften the scorn that was changed to hate 
 When I chose the bars of the gray and gold. 
 
 And followed the South to its bitter fate. 
 But, here's to the lads of the Northern blue, 
 
 And here's to the boys of the Southern gray. 
 And I would that the Northern star but knew 
 
 How the Southern cross is borne to-day. 
 
THE FEVER. 
 
 From a cave in a gloomy mountain, a brown dwarf, in 
 
 the night, 
 Leaned, gazing over the billows at the moon that was 
 
 blue and white ; 
 He bent, with hand uplifted, and tangled locks thrown 
 
 back. 
 While a serpent's glitter haunted the eyes that were white 
 
 and black. 
 
 At tower-topped abbey windows a dark and grizzled face, 
 
 Whose eyes were keen and crafty, seemed to linger round 
 the place, 
 
 Till the moon arose at midnight, when, beneath a smug- 
 gler's hood, 
 
 The pipe-lit, ruddy features like a demon's face outstood ! 
 
THE FEVER, 67 
 
 Where rise the channel Needles that cleave the seas in 
 
 twain, 
 There stole a hag-faced creature to gaze upon the main ; 
 And 'twixt the reefs and surf pools she crouched upon 
 
 the sand, 
 While something sharp and shining glistened brightly in 
 
 her hand ! 
 
 Within a wrecker's cavern the flickering torches shone, 
 Where men with belted blouses sat warily alone ; 
 'Midst clicking dice and glasses they played, with venture 
 
 bold. 
 As the flicker of the torches fell athwart their gleaming 
 
 gold. 
 
 Above the dim horizon, like a Titan rushing past, 
 Uprose the sea rack suddenly, outstretching far and vast. 
 Toward the spider)'-spun outline of a ship against the 
 
 moon. 
 While a hoarse and angry murmur broke along the sandy 
 
 dune ! 
 
68 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Anon the sea rose madly, as a zigzag lightning streak 
 Quivered down its lofty mountains that were black, 
 
 and bare, and bleak ; 
 And the roar upon the sea-rocks, in its hollow, surging 
 
 sound, 
 Was like the wail of ghosts that battled for their bodies 
 
 that were drowned. 
 
 All this I saw as, dreaming, one sees the moon and 
 
 storm, 
 Or watches some old abbey and a crouching human form, 
 When at once across the waters I beheld a blackened 
 
 wreck, 
 That became a glowing vessel with my soul upon its deck ! 
 
 Along the angry ocean the ship in silence drave, 
 
 With its lurid masts out-gleaming o'er the boiling of the 
 
 w^ave. 
 And before me broke a channel that down-sweeping sped 
 
 amain. 
 Till the blackness of the heavens brought a blinding 
 
 sense of pain ! 
 
THE FEVER. 6g 
 
 Then the sharp, incessant lightning shone a constant, 
 
 pallid blue, 
 Showing shapes that flitted past me that no mortal ever 
 
 knew. 
 While the cries that pierced the heavens never rose from 
 
 human lip. 
 And I stood and listened, hopeless, as down headlong 
 
 plunged the ship ! 
 
 Now straightway through the darkness a light began to 
 
 creep. 
 As we rounded out the vortex, a hundred fathoms 
 
 deep ; 
 And the moon, with haggard features, and with tresses 
 
 white as fleece, 
 To my soul with sudden shining brought the benison of 
 
 peace. 
 
 Out sailed the ship in silence upon the waters red, 
 Whence upward to the moonlight lay the faces of the 
 dead ; 
 
70 CASTLE WINDOWS, 
 
 Gaunt, weird, and wizened faces out-looked with dread- 
 ful stare. 
 
 While hideous shapes made havoc with the bloodless bod- 
 ies there ! 
 
 Out sailed the ship in silence betwixt two mountains 
 
 tall, 
 While about the vessel creatures of the deep began to 
 
 crawl ; 
 And shapeless things, whose bodies I could sense, but 
 
 not behold, 
 Uprose with spectral horror, and a shivering sense of 
 
 cold ! 
 
 All this I saw as, dreaming, one sees the moon and 
 storm, 
 
 When across the sky before us rose a strange and spec- 
 tral form. 
 
 And ghostly shapes in cloud-drifts, like a flurried rush of 
 snow. 
 
 Followed fast, with long locks gleaming in a glittering, 
 icy glow ! 
 
THE FEVER. 71 
 
 Then miles of moonlit islands, with hilltops blue and 
 
 green, 
 Like a soft, melodious measure, broke the harshness of 
 
 the scene ; 
 When aport the vessel weirdly loomed the phantom 
 
 turrets tall 
 Of a pile whose litten windows shone aslant the ocean 
 
 wall. 
 
 And through the pillared towers looked the moon as 
 through a mist, 
 
 When I yielded to a power that my soul could not re- 
 sist ; 
 
 And a music, low as waters in a summer meadow, fell 
 
 On my senses as I sank beneath that strange and potent 
 spell. 
 
 Out sailed the ship in silence, straight onward toward the 
 
 moon. 
 When I heard the drowsy murmur, as of leafy woods in 
 
 June; 
 
72 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 While on either side beyond us stretched broad meadows, 
 
 in a glow, 
 As we neared the phantom towers through a mist-like 
 
 arch below. 
 
 And again I saw, as, dreaming, one beholds the moon and 
 
 storm, 
 At tower-topped abbey windows, a crouching human 
 
 form ; 
 And the vessel in a vortex plunged headlong down the 
 
 deep, 
 When I sank in nerveless terror to a pulseless, death-like 
 
 sleep 1 
 
 Then below the channel Needles, that cleft the waves in 
 
 twain, 
 I woke to see dark faces gazing out upon the main ; 
 And when the storm receded, I could hear upon the 
 
 sand 
 Men hoarsely shouting over what the sea gave to the 
 
 land. 
 
THE FEVER, 73 
 
 And I saw a wrecker's cavern, where flickering torches 
 shone, 
 
 Where men with belted blouses sat warily alone ; 
 
 'Midst clicking dice and glasses they played, with venture 
 bold, 
 
 As the smoky flame of torches fell athwart their gleam- 
 ing gold 1 
 
TO A COQUETTE. 
 
 You remember, when last we were boating, 
 
 On the beautiful river below. 
 How sweet was our flirting and floating 
 
 Together, a long time ago. 
 Where the lindens the avenue shaded, 
 
 You remember, returning to tea. 
 When the light of the sunset had faded. 
 
 You said you were tired of me ? 
 
 I thought you were charming and pretty. 
 
 When afterward, dowii at the train, 
 I hoped you would stay in the city. 
 
 And not come to see us again. 
 But the summers were bright with your beauty, 
 
 You came ev'ry June to the place ; 
 I told you (in penance of duty) 
 
 I hated the sight of your face. 
 
TO A COQUETTE. 75 
 
 My sister you thought so romantic, 
 
 Her love was so tender and true ; 
 But me you deemed slow and pedantic, 
 
 From sonnets I'd written to you. 
 You remember the mill in the meadow, 
 
 That stood where the blue river ran ; 
 It was there that we sat in its shadow, 
 
 And the fun of your flirting began. 
 
 I read to you charming romances. 
 
 The piano with fantasies rang ; 
 You thrilled me with sweetest of glances, 
 
 And laughed at a song that I sang. 
 I met you again in the city, 
 
 You called me your villager beau ; 
 I ventured to say you were witty. 
 
 You ventured to tell me to go. 
 
 I remember the lover that met you. 
 
 One evening, below in the dell ; 
 You left me abruptly — I let you — 
 
 I couldn't do otherwise well. 
 
CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 I gave you a book and some flowers ; 
 
 You took them, and threw them aside ; 
 I know you don't think of those hours, 
 
 So thoughtless you are in your pride. 
 
 One night, as the rain fell in torrents, 
 
 We parted — I held to my heart. 
 And journeyed to Paris and Florence, 
 
 And Rome, with its treasures of art. 
 I took neither trinket nor token. 
 
 To harass my memory here ; 
 I found that my heart was unbroken, 
 
 And wondered you ever were dear. 
 
 Returning, I find you unmarried ; 
 
 Your beauty's the same, I am told ; 
 For suitors you always have carried 
 
 A heart that is icy and cold. 
 But come to the Beeches to-morrow — 
 
 We are leading the gladdest of lives ; 
 I am over my sickness and sorrow 
 
 And will show you the sweetest of wives. 
 
IN THE SINGER'S PLACE. 
 
 Unto a singer at the city gates 
 
 An angel from the courts of Heaven sped ; 
 *' Long hast thou quarreled with the cruel Fates," 
 
 With winning voice the pitying angel said. 
 
 "Go, prove thy heart with riches and renown ; 
 
 Thou hast them both ! " the angel disappeared. 
 Bewildered then the singer sought the town — 
 
 Men lowly bowed to him as one they feared. 
 There, at the gates where he was wont to sing, 
 The angel's words had made the singer King I 
 
 With riches and renown the singer sweet 
 Stood at his window, looking down the street ; 
 Rich purple vestments on his person hung, 
 While at his gates another singer sung. 
 
78 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 With tearful eyes, unto the King the bard 
 
 Looked up for alms ; but all in vain he pled. 
 "Sing those who must, let those who may, reward, 
 
 The world is wide," the haughty monarch said. 
 Then, as the singer sadly left the place. 
 Too late he recognized the angel's face ! 
 
WHO WILL CARE, IN THE COMING YEAR? 
 
 Who will care, in the coming year, 
 
 Whether your coat-of-arms was set 
 Under the antlers of a deer, 
 
 In the halls of some old Plantagenet? 
 Or whether your coat was smooth and thin, 
 
 And your badge no liveried crest of gold. 
 But the raiment of poverty, lined with sin, 
 
 To protect your limbs from the bitter cold ? 
 
 Who will care, in the coming year. 
 Whether of high or of low estate 
 
 Is the one who is planning and toiling here, 
 And weaving the web of an unknown fate ? 
 
8o CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Is there one who cares for you even now, 
 As you lean your head on your feeble hand, 
 
 And think of your lot with a wrinkled brow — 
 Is there one to console you in all the land ? 
 
 Who will care, in the coming year, 
 
 If your home was a stately mansion tall, 
 Or simply a hut by the wayside here, 
 
 With a few wild vines on the straggling wall ? 
 Or whether you rode in your coach of gold, 
 
 Under your trappings, stiff and proud. 
 When your walls were new, and your wines were old, 
 
 And friends with flattering tongues were loud ? 
 
 Who will care, in the coming year, 
 
 Whether you stood in your pride, a man. 
 Crowned with a nation's honors here, 
 
 Or driven to crime by a social ban ? 
 Our lives are mingled as streams that run 
 
 In a ceaseless tide, to an unknown sea, 
 On the crest, the foam and the shining sun, 
 
 In the depths, and in darkness, what is to be. 
 
WHO WILL CARE, IN THE COMING YEAR? 
 
 Who will care, in the coming year, 
 
 Whether we rest, or toil and spin ? 
 We may not know, in our saintly sphere, 
 
 We may not care, in our path of sin. 
 But I have a fancy, that when the clouds 
 
 Shall be rolled away from the city fair, 
 And we go to join the shining crowds, 
 
 That some one will care for us over there ! 
 
BEAUTIFUL EYES. 
 
 Beautiful, beautiful eyes, 
 So tenderly watching our steps from afar, 
 
 Why do ye fade, as the sunset dies 
 In the amaranth, under the one sweet star. 
 That we call our own in the pale blue skies ? 
 Is it a mother. 
 Who lovingly leans by the purple wall 
 
 Of the Silent Land ; or the sweet-faced brother 
 You missed, with the joys that are past recall ; 
 
 Or is it the angel-face of another, 
 Who wistfully watches, with all in all 
 Expressed in those loving eyes ? 
 
 For still, as the twilight waits beyond. 
 As the blue waves leach on the capes of gold, 
 
BE A UTIFUL E YES. 83 
 
 There are eyes that seem with affection fond, 
 To watch for us there, as in days of old 
 Beautiful eyes 
 Waited our coming with joy untold ! 
 
 While at times, in the tender light, we trace 
 The outlines faint of an angel face 
 In the evening skies. 
 Mournful mem'ries awake, and tears 
 Arise from the heart with the silent years, 
 
 And the soul would rest. 
 As the faces fade with the fading west ! 
 
 Beautiful eyes 
 Our steps pursue with such tender grace ! 
 
 Change unto tears at the heart's deep sighs, 
 Break into smiles at the lifted face. 
 
 Beautiful eyes. 
 Wistfully speechful beyond the skies I 
 
 Is it a mother. 
 Who lovingly leans by the purple wall 
 
 Of the Silent Land ; or the sweet-faced brother 
 
84 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 You missed, with the joys that are past recall ; 
 
 Or is it the angel face of another, 
 Who yearningly watches, with all in all 
 Expressed in those loving eyes ? 
 
BABY AT THE WINDOW. 
 Roses, fresh in the morning dew, 
 
 In cluster lie 
 By the garden-wall and the porch without, 
 Lifting their leaves in the sunny blue 
 
 Of a summer sky, 
 While the great brown bee goes whirring by. 
 Or grumbles and bur-r-r's in the flowers about. 
 
 Swallows, twittering round the eaves. 
 
 Have a saucy look, 
 As they bend their wings to the southern air. 
 And, skimming under the maple leaves. 
 
 And beyond the brook. 
 They flash by the window's sunny nook, 
 With Baby laughing and crowing there. 
 
86 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Nodding and crowing, pert and prim, 
 
 At the window nigh ; 
 Talking with learned birds and bees, 
 That come with the sirangesi news to him 
 
 Under the sky ! 
 From the fields that beyond the mountains lie, 
 The marsh-gold meadow and tall oak trees ! 
 
 And stories quaint of the owl-cap elves 
 
 Unto him are told, 
 Till his large brown eyes grow larger still, 
 And his chubby hands half hide themselves 
 
 In his apron's fold. 
 While the bees and the birds, so wise and old, 
 Chipper and buzz about Merlin hill. 
 
 The squirrel, haunched on a limb to rest. 
 
 Has a word to say 
 Of a marvelous world in the tall tree-tops. 
 Where the oriole dreams in her swinging nest. 
 
 Through the livelong day ; 
 And the locust calls, in his shrilly way. 
 To his missing mate in the cedar copse. 
 
BAB Y AT THE WINDO IV. 87 
 
 O little Gold Curls, with your winsome face, 
 
 So fresh and fair, 
 With your wee feet pattering over the floor, 
 As you nestle back in your cosy place 
 
 By the window there. 
 You tangle our hearts in your wavy hair, 
 While charming your birds at the cottage door ! 
 
 And then you're so old, with your large brown 
 eyes. 
 So at times serene. 
 As you stand in the sunset's purple glow, 
 Silently there, and so seeming wise ! 
 
 I know, as you lean 
 On your hand, while watching some golden scene 
 In the clouds, that the angels have made you so. 
 
 Roses, blooming the whole day long, 
 
 A-sleeping lie 
 In the garden, rocked by the evening breeze, 
 
88 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 While a mother is crooning her cradle-song, 
 
 And ''Baby bye," 
 The birds in a low, sweet voice reply, 
 Dreamily down from the distant trees. 
 
A STRICKEN HOME. 
 
 'Tis better so — the daylight &des, 
 And noon to night is waning hst ; 
 
 But fester still life's mourafol shades 
 Encompass me ; the die is cast ! 
 
 TI17 fondest smiles were masquerades — 
 Love's sweetest dream is o'er at last I 
 
 Yet oft, in watches of the night. 
 
 From years that seemed so fondly feir. 
 
 Thy form will darken like a blight 
 The picture that I fain would spare. 
 
 Go ! let the world say which is right. 
 They well may judge who do not care. 
 
go CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Alone. How each fond scene I trace 
 Hath something of her presence here ! 
 
 I seem to see her clear-cut face, 
 Like moon-gleams, shape and disappear ; 
 
 And round this memory-haunted place 
 The music of her voice I hear. 
 
 As through a mist I catch a gleam 
 Of light across the deepening gloom ; 
 
 The sun is shining in a dream. 
 
 The lattice rose has lost its bloom ; 
 
 The death-pale lilies sway, and seem 
 Weird ghosts that hover round a tomb. 
 
 I know that somewhere, in the years. 
 Full-freighted with their joy and pain. 
 
 The sunshine, streaming through our tears. 
 Shall cheer us with its rays again ; 
 
 Our peace-dispelling hopes and fears 
 But chasten hearts that sigh in vain. 
 
 Ah, queenly shape that haunteth still 
 The chamber, standing at my side ! 
 
A STRICKEN HOME. 91 
 
 Love was idolatry, until 
 
 Thyself forgot the name of bride ; 
 And love had not the strength of will 
 
 To buffet circumstance with pride ! 
 
 How like the very snow, that falls 
 
 So stainless till it touches earth, 
 Wert thou ! . . . and round these spacious halls 
 
 I note thy pride of noble birth, 
 And curse that hour when lordly walls 
 Seemed hermitage of vestal worth. 
 
 Alas, 'tis neither love nor hate — 
 
 The glimmering star of hope has set ! 
 
 Her shame is mine, and hopeless fate 
 Unceasing bids my soul forget. 
 
 To-morrow, and the world will wait 
 With scorn and bitter epithet ! 
 
 How burns the angry sunset o'er 
 
 Her bridal gems, that, scattered there 
 
 Upon the crimson chamber floor, 
 She wrested from her lustrous hair, 
 
92 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And at my feet in anguish swore 
 The falsehood of a deep despair I 
 
 The roses clambering up the wall 
 Are drooping o'er yon balustrade, 
 
 And down the wide old Gothic hall 
 The violet sunlight streaks the shade. 
 
 Her harp is mute — ^yet over all 
 Her presence seems to form and fade. 
 
 Upon the broidered satin bed 
 Her book lies open at the place 
 
 Where but an hour ago she read, 
 Reclining in her stately grace — 
 
 And there I seem to see the dead 
 And ghost-like beauty of her face ! 
 
 And through the casement, flung ajar, 
 What memories the scenes suggest 
 
 Of rosy hours, while, near and far, 
 How sleeps the peaceful world at rest, 
 
 Beneath the glow of that one star, 
 Upon the bosom of the west ! 
 
A STRICKEN HOME. 93 
 
 How still the place is ! To the shore, 
 That bends about this blackened sea 
 
 Wherein we live, what hands implore 
 The aid which sets the spirit free, 
 
 Or to oblivion evermore 
 
 Consigns the mortal thoughts that be ! 
 
 The night is rising from the trees, 
 Her hands, uplifted, trail with stars, 
 
 And through my casement comes the breeze, 
 Spice-laden ; but the silence jars 
 
 The sense — as one who dimly sees 
 
 Blue summer skies through prison bars. 
 
 Again upon the shore we stand, 
 ■Together, 'neath the vesper moon ; 
 
 The May-sweet roses through the land, 
 Are prest up to the lips of June ; 
 
 And o'er a bridge of golden sand 
 
 The sea-lights glimmer down the dune. 
 
 Again her hand is clasped in mine. 
 
 Once more we meet with fond embrace ; 
 
94 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Her violet eyes, uplifted, shine 
 
 Demurely, with that old-time grace, 
 
 Which in its glory seemed to shrine 
 The splendor of her white-rose face. 
 
 Nay, nay — the vail at last is drawn 
 Across those years that buried lie ; 
 
 I seek, with all life's promise gone, 
 Contentment 'neath another sky. 
 
 Our lives are like the waves at dawn, 
 That float in liquid sparkles by ! 
 
 The iris flower bows its head 
 
 Before the glimmer of the blast ; 
 
 The jasmines, seemingly so dead ; . 
 Are fresher when the storm is past ; 
 
 The roses' blush hath brighter red. 
 When April skies are overcast. 
 
 Yon Magdalen, with sad blue eyes, 
 Outreaches hands, with tearful plaint. 
 
 And from yon Cenci seems to rise 
 The prayerful pleadings of a saint ; 
 
A STRICKEN HOME. 95 
 
 While through the dusk I hear the sighs 
 Of some poor weary soul afaint ! 
 
 A wavering flame streams through the west, 
 
 Like tremulous tresses of a form 
 That crosses hands upon its breast ; 
 
 And, with their love-light pure and warm, 
 Whose eyes on heaven are seen to rest, 
 
 In refuge from a coming storm. 
 
 Yon antique bronzes chill my heart, 
 And seem, with livid look of green. 
 
 Back from their pedestals to start. 
 
 And eye askance the gloomy scene. — 
 
 And now the velvet curtains part, 
 
 And show a faint, dim shape between ! 
 
 A shape whose dank and dripping hair 
 With icy breath the chamber fills ; 
 
 A shape that hath a deathlike stare. 
 
 Whose presence all my life-blood chills. 
 
 'Tis she, who stands supremely there, 
 Beyond life's weary pains and ills ! 
 
96 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Tis gone., .the moonlight floods the room,- 
 Her caged bird twitters soft and low ; 
 
 The white bride-lilies' faint perfume 
 Brings sadly back the long ago. 
 
 My heart goes out into the gloom 
 Forevermore . . . 'tis better so ! 
 
BROKEN WINDOWS. 
 
 Some say it is west, some east, and then 
 Some hold it is north, some south, again ; 
 But wherever it is, we will let it pass — 
 The place that I mean is built of glass ! 
 Purple and amber and ruby glow 
 In a thousand tints, on the streets below, 
 And a wide road leads to this kingdom bright, 
 Where squares of houses are blocks of light. 
 
 Flowers were whispering in the breeze ; 
 INIagpies chattered in gossipy trees ; 
 Parrots hung by the foot, and told 
 Wonderful things of this kingdom old ; 
 
98 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Toads hopped by with some dreadful news, 
 And the owl shrank back to mouse and muse ; 
 While a bat looked out, with beaded eyes, 
 And said the people were wondrous wise ; 
 Then a snake slid past in the slimy grass — 
 When I heard on a sudden the crash of glass I 
 
 The people were gathered by street and square. 
 By market and shop, in the city there. 
 Each one of the crowd determined alone 
 To shatter his neighbor's house with stone ! 
 
WHAT THE BROOK SAID. 
 
 The chestnuts, dropping one by one, 
 
 In the leaves of the dusky dells. 
 Cracked, as they lay in the slanting sun, 
 
 Their curious satin shells ; 
 As little Bopeep and I, one day, 
 
 In the lazy autumn weather, 
 Over the meadows took our way 
 
 To the wooded hills, together. 
 
 We sat in the hush of the harvest peace, 
 
 And the landscape edged away 
 To the west and south, with the cloudy fleece 
 
 Of a mild September day. 
 
lOO CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And up from meadows of waving grain, 
 
 That billowed a golden tide, 
 The harvesters came, with their loaded wain 
 
 High-swinging from side to side. 
 
 Beyond the valley were fields of maize, 
 
 And forests of purple hue, 
 And sloping meadows beneath the bays, 
 
 That sifted the sunlight through. 
 While near, a brook, in a cadenced flow, 
 
 Laughed loud as it tumbled down, 
 And we heard the villagers' song below. 
 
 Faint-floating above the town. 
 
 But high in the landscape's glowing charms. 
 
 Like a monarch in grandeur, stood 
 An oak that stretched its knotty arms 
 
 O'er the saplings of the wood. 
 And here the breezes lingered long 
 
 To toy with his leafy beard. 
 While whistling softly a plaintive song, 
 
 Like an echo low and weird. 
 
WHA T THE BROOK SAID. loi 
 
 ' ' Did fairies live in this sunny nook, 
 
 Oh, ever so long ago ? 
 
 Did they live " 
 
 ''Ha, ha ! " said the running brook, 
 
 While the stout oak answered '* No ! " 
 ''Ha, ha!" said the brook with a laughing 
 sound, 
 
 As it murmured down the glen, 
 " Ere this oak was born, or this country found 
 
 By your curious tribes of men, 
 
 " When the moon shone over the forest old. 
 
 Ere the woodman's ax was known, 
 The fairies lived by a lake of gold. 
 
 In a realm they could call their own. 
 No prying eyes of a mortal saw 
 
 Their kingdom of fair renown. 
 When Oberon, Mab, and Titania 
 
 In turn wore the diamond crown. 
 
 " When the lilies that floated along the lake 
 Were the boats of the fairy crew ; 
 
102 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 When the bee and the bird, of burn and brake, 
 Were the only steeds they knew. 
 
 That was the fairy age, and bright 
 Was the earth in its beauty then, 
 
 When the moon, with its shafts of silver light, 
 Enchanted the palaced glen. 
 
 ' ' True, the fairy palace faded away, 
 
 And the song and the laughter ceased, 
 And the little folk fled at the faintest ray 
 
 Of the morning along the east. 
 And now no more, in the pale moon's beam. 
 
 Do I hear their music low ; 
 But I dream, old oak, as you cannot dream, 
 
 Of a beautiful long ago 1 ' 
 
THE GOLDEN MEADOWS. 
 
 Beyond the rainbow are the golden meadows, 
 The castles tall, the brooks, the cooling shadows, 
 Where diamond turrets gleam across the vale, 
 And fading seaward drifts a silken sail. 
 Where oft we hear loved voices faintly calling, 
 In music sweet upon our senses falling ; 
 Ah ! t'is a land of sweet romance, at least, 
 That lies beyond the rainbow in the east. 
 
 How oft with some old melodies arise 
 The thoughts that bring sad tears up to the eyes ! 
 How oft the leaves of some dear book and olden 
 Unfold to us such memories glad and golden. 
 That in our dreams we catch the sunset rays. 
 That slant across the scenes of other days. 
 
104, CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 In lands enchanted now, and leagues, at least, 
 Beyond the shining rainbow in the east. 
 
 Beneath yon oak-tree, summer afternoons. 
 We lunched, straw-hatted, in a June of Junes, 
 With bee-wings humming in a nook hard by, 
 And peevish chirp of birds, in foliage nigh. 
 Pushed from their perch, when toward the glowing 
 
 west 
 Phoebus at last his prancing chargers pressed. 
 Now 'tis a land where Shah Zaman could feast, 
 And lies beyond the rainbow in the east. 
 
 To-day, with half-shut lids, I drowse and dream. 
 Watching the twinkling pleasaunce of a stream. 
 That, like the diamonds in some Thea's tresses. 
 Gleams through the sea-green groves of high Par- 
 nassus. 
 But when I fain would seek the sacred shades, 
 At once the stream recedes, the landscape fades. 
 Gone is the dream ! At last the songs have ceased. 
 Far past the glowing rainbow in the east. 
 
THE GOLDEN MEADOWS. 105 
 
 Beyond the rainbow golden meadows lie, 
 And purple mountains kiss the summer sky ; 
 Where cactus spears and palms outstretching reach 
 To jeweled sands that ripple on the beach, 
 With lulling noon-time song of birds and bees, 
 And flash of dove-throat plumage through the trees. 
 Ah ! 'tis a land of sweet romance, at least, 
 That lies beyond the rainbow in the east. 
 
 Oft by the sleepy margin of a glade, 
 
 When birds are faint, and seek the cooling shade. 
 
 We see the shadows lifting into view. 
 
 Of cloud-sails dipping slow across the blue. 
 
 And bending down to those long-yearned-for places, 
 
 Unto the home of dear, familiar faces. 
 
 That haunt us with a love that ne'er has ceased, 
 
 To cheer us with the rainbow in the east. 
 
 So, bright as sun-rays slanting on the floor, 
 The memories of joys that are no more ! • 
 Over the hills and down the leafy wold. 
 We ne'er may wander as in days of old. 
 
io6 
 
 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 But still before us are the golden meadows, 
 The castles tall, the brooks, and cooling shadows, 
 All in that land of dear romance, at least. 
 That lies beyond the rainbow in the east. 
 
kjQ-^. 
 
 VISTAS. 
 
 Let the world give way to its sighing, 
 
 Be prone in its penitent dust, 
 Be silent, be sad, or be dying, 
 
 Bereft of its infinite trust ; 
 In the heart of each creature reposes 
 
 The sense of some duty forlorn, 
 To trample, in passing, the roses. 
 
 And press to its bosom the thorn. 
 
 Tis the way of the world to be fretful, 
 
 Impatient of losses or gain, 
 To recede from the fields that are yet full 
 
 Of generous fruitage and grain. 
 
io8 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 While peace in its beauty is shining 
 Through clouds that are rosy and fair, 
 
 The heart of man, ever repining, 
 Is prone to the gloom of despair. 
 
 We utter, with dreariest features. 
 
 Our thanks for the roses and rain, 
 While unto less privileged creatures 
 
 The joy is distinct from the pain. 
 While nature in turn dispossesses 
 
 Each one of some cherished repose. 
 In some way hereafter it blesses 
 
 The heart that is burdened with woes. 
 
 The lands that are fairest, and languish 
 
 In passionate regions of song, 
 Have quaked in a terrible anguish, 
 
 By hap of some terrible wrong. 
 Though known what its burdensome woe meant, 
 
 When rent by its torture within, 
 'Tis now but the dream of a moment. 
 
 Remembrance of sorrow and sin. 
 
VISTAS. 109 
 
 But list to the lands and their story ! 
 
 Awake to the jubilant song ! 
 The burden of all is the glory 
 
 Of right overcoming the wrong. 
 Then lift up your face, in the gray light 
 
 Of dawning, forgetful of ruth ! 
 The darkness succumbs to the daylight 
 
 Of reason resolving the truth ! 
 
 The midsummer music of waters, 
 
 Of birds in the fluttering leaves, 
 The chansons of sons and of daughters. 
 
 The whisper of moonlighted eves. 
 The regions of sunshine and laughter, 
 
 And love glances furtive and coy — 
 Are these to be now and hereafter 
 
 Held up as a sin to enjoy ? 
 
 Is the infinite love, in its measure, 
 
 Alluring our souls to decay, 
 Beguiling our hearts with a pleasure, 
 
 And followed by death in a day ? 
 
no CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 A life may be buoyant and youthful, 
 With memories solemn and sad. 
 
 Though faces are patient and truthful, 
 The smile may be hopeful and glad. 
 
 The songs of the wearisome ages 
 
 Are breathed in lugubrious lines ; 
 With sadness we lift up the pages, 
 
 And study the curious signs. 
 Through ruins where cities have slumbered 
 
 We toil in an intricate maze, 
 To find, of the ages unnumbered, 
 
 But records of sorrowful days. 
 
 Our pleasures may grow one by one less ; 
 
 Our friends may be faithless or few ; 
 To lives that are arid and sunless 
 
 Will enter the light and the dew. 
 Past vistas of meadow and mountain, 
 
 Past reaches of shadow and sun, 
 Beside a low-murmuring fountain, 
 
 Is rest when the journey is done. 
 
VISTAS. m 
 
 The song-birds that sang in your May time, 
 
 The flowers that bloomed in your June, 
 The happiness sweet of some daytime, 
 
 Made sad by the night over-soon, 
 The dear ones whose voices, in sorrow. 
 
 Seem music half lost in a dream. 
 Will come to you there on the morrow. 
 
 When crossed is the turbulent stream. 
 
QUEST. 
 
 I. 
 O DARLING of the sweet south wind ! 
 
 Lift up thy modest eye, 
 And tell me if my true love 
 This morning passed you by. 
 " White scarf and blue eyes ? 
 
 Jaunty hat and feather ? 
 She passed me by this morning, 
 Tripping through the heather.' 
 
 II. 
 
 O Bossie, with your large brown eyes ! 
 
 My true love, let me know, 
 Did you see her pass this morning, 
 
 In the meadow-lot below ? 
 
QUEST. 113 
 
 *' Apple cheek and flaxen hair? 
 
 Sweetheart all over ? 
 She went by this morning, 
 
 Down through the clover." 
 
 III. 
 
 O river, with your mantle blue, 
 
 A-trailing in the shade 1 
 Pray have you seen my true love, 
 Wandering in the glade ? 
 
 "A dainty face with long hair 
 
 Streaming in the light ? 
 
 She passed down the valley. 
 
 And then out of sight." 
 
 IV. 
 
 O screaming gull ! above the sea 
 Have you my true love heard ? 
 
 She had a voice that you would say 
 Were sweet as any bird ! 
 
114 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 *'Her hands crossed upon her breast, 
 I saw her features fond ; 
 
 She passed over the waters, 
 Unto the land beyond ! " 
 
LOOKING DOWN THE WESTERN HILLS. 
 
 Looking down the western hills, 
 Softly are the sea-waves crooning ; 
 
 While their ceaseless murmur thrills 
 All the senses, languid, swooning, 
 
 Spite of ills, 
 Looking down the western hills. 
 
 Silent is the scene beyond. 
 
 All the tender landscape glowing ; 
 How a heart, of pleasure fond, 
 
 As it nears the ocean flowing, 
 Will despond ! 
 
 Silent is the scene beyond. 
 
Ti6 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Looking down the western hillS; 
 
 Sometimes to sweet strains we listen, 
 Doubting, though the music thrills, 
 
 And the eyes uplifted glisten, 
 Spite of ills. 
 
 Looking down the western hills. 
 
 Now the sky is all aglow, 
 
 Into gold the waves are breaking ; 
 
 Dim the meadow-lands below, 
 
 While the evening bells are waking 
 
 Echoes low ; 
 Now the sky is all aglow. 
 
 Looking down the western hills, 
 
 Now the landscape night is shading ; 
 
 And the soul its trust fulfills, 
 
 Breathes farewell as earth is fading. 
 
 With its ills, 
 Down below the western hills ! 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 The air was tinted, through all the land, 
 With violet light, as, with pompous state, 
 
 In a tiny chariot, six-in-hand, 
 
 Came the prince to the garden gate. 
 
 I was reading some volume of ancient lore, 
 By the library window, cushioned deep 
 
 In the sofa pillows, when, peeping o'er 
 The balcony, half asleep, 
 
 I beheld his highness, in cap and plume. 
 Mounting the wide, white marble stairs ; 
 
 And the folding-doors of the purple room 
 Swung open unawares. 
 
Ii8 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The wavy curtains across the door, 
 The Cupids upholding the ebony piers, 
 
 In the mirror glistened aslant the floor, 
 'Neath the wine-colored chandeliers 
 
 Of the spacious parlors, with broidered amber 
 Of cushioned chair, in the damask room, 
 
 Where the dancers danced to the tinkling tambour 
 And flute, in the violet gloom. 
 
 And the quaint old group, in the banquet hall. 
 Of satyrs crowning the god divine, 
 
 Was wakened to life, on the damask wall. 
 By the gurgling of amber wine. 
 
 And two by two, with their courtly talk. 
 In shimmer of silk, and cloth of gold. 
 
 The guests, by many a winding walk, 
 Strolled through the forest old. 
 
 But where was the princess, the pale, sweet flower, 
 Of whom in the dusk, by the sunset sea, 
 
 The bluebird sang, in the donjon tower, 
 Such a strange, weird melody .? 
 
CINDERELLA. 119 
 
 And was I a-dreaming all the time ? 
 
 Did the prince pass by with her sisters twain, 
 Of whom 'twas rehearsed, in prose or rhyme, 
 
 That they loved and loved in vain ? 
 
 The roses drooped in their royal splendor, 
 And the fairy flute of the nightingale 
 
 Plaintively piped in a music tender, 
 Up from the leafy vale. 
 
 The sky was aglow with its sunset tints, 
 
 As I saw, through the tremulous, leafy wold, 
 
 The turrets tall of the fairy prince, 
 Bannered in green and gold. 
 
 And up through the winding, woodland shade 
 To a melody sweet of the long ago, 
 
 Ever the plumes of the cavalcade 
 Waved brightly to and fro. 
 
 So I stole away from my hiding-place. 
 
 And slyly peered through the postern wall ; 
 
 And lo ! Cinderella, in sad disgrace. 
 Was pacing the gloomy hall ! 
 
120 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And high overhead the melody rang, 
 So faint and far was the silence stirred, 
 
 That the boisterous shout and the wine-cups' clang 
 Of the revelry scarce were heard. 
 
 And she who was fairest in all the land, ' 
 
 The pride of the palace, the slave of the cot, 
 
 Was doomed too soon, at her lover's hand, 
 To suffer and be forgot. 
 
 To toil and to spin by the fireside, since 
 A time when she thought her fortunes mended, 
 
 For one of her sisters had wed the prince, 
 Ere the honeymoon was ended ! 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 
 
days that were rich with romance and with song. 
 
 When prophets of old in their wisdom sung 
 Of men zvho were sittewy limbed and strongs 
 
 And gods who were great when the world was young f 
 We lean to your columns that stand by the main, 
 
 Those voiceless but eloquent preachers to man ; 
 And they tell us the same sad story again 
 
 That has ever been told since the world began ! 
 
 Fair Italy! clime of the palm and the vine 
 
 Of the far blue sky and the pmple sea ; 
 Thou sunset province of temple and shrine 
 
 What meed of praise can we bring to thee ? 
 Thy ruins are marshaled on plains and heights 
 
 Lifting shields that are shattered by ruthless Time, 
 As he rides with the cohorts of days and nights. 
 
 And smites to the dull earth works sublime. 
 
" Ave Imperator, 
 Morituri salutamus ! 
 
 'TwAS the classic age of romances, 
 
 And the moon, with a glimmer of gold, 
 Had shattered its silver lances 
 
 On the sea-gates, white and cold, 
 Of the far-famed city of Baiae, 
 
 The fairest of all, and the best 
 Of the summer resorts to the Roman, 
 And the people of fair Pompeii. 
 For she charmed with the charm of a woman, 
 
 And lifted a face to the west. 
 With a hand clenched firm for a foeman, 
 
 But an open palm for a guest. 
 
124 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 It was carnival night of Vesta. 
 
 In the emperor's grand saloon 
 A gladiatorial festa 
 
 Had finished the afternoon. 
 And athletes of well-won glory, 
 
 And brawny of limb and bold, 
 Had gathered to tell their story 
 
 Of many a contest old. 
 Centurion, soldier, and priest, 
 Were bacchantes, all at the feast. 
 
 In the glare of the rising moon ; 
 And they emptied the golden liquor. 
 And the wine from the white, carved beaker. 
 
 In bumpers a-bead to the brim. 
 But the roar of their mirth and laughter 
 
 Had scarce for a moment ceased, 
 When up rose one thereafter, 
 Who had boasted his deeds of danger. 
 And called for the captive stranger. 
 
 Who stood in the archway dim. 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 125 
 
 Large-limbed like a mighty giant, 
 
 But rude as a herdsman dressed, 
 He had entered the town, defiant 
 
 Of the lordliest and the best. 
 A captive, true, but no Roman 
 Had sought to be his foeman, 
 
 Or to speak him word of jest. 
 Or to laugh at his coarse attire. 
 For his dark face glowed with ire. 
 
 And he strode with such heavy tread. 
 As he crossed the pavement o'er 
 
 To the table, that overhead 
 The great lamps shook and quivered, 
 And a proffered cup he shivered 
 
 Into fragments on the floor ! 
 
 Then the wine-cups, half uplifted, 
 Of the guests were slowly shifted 
 
 Aside on the board of oak ; 
 And no man dared, for dread. 
 
 But to gaze on the mighty figure. 
 
 Drawn tense with a godlike vigor. 
 And the poise of the massive head. 
 
126 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 For, like clouds that are torn and rifted 
 By the lightning's rapid stroke, 
 
 His eyes flashed fire, uplifted 
 To the swordsmen, as he spoke ; 
 
 *' Ye are here in your pride assembled, 
 
 And ye come of a stalwart race ; 
 But know ye, that all have trembled, 
 
 Who have met me face to face. 
 Ye plan for the beasts to spare me 
 
 To-morrow, at set of sun ; 
 But I think there is none to dare me 
 
 To add to his laurels, one ! 
 
 ''Think ye I fear your anger ? 
 
 Or the lift of a threatening head ? 
 Or accept your lordly languor 
 
 For aught but a foeman's dread ? 
 Ye have gathered with song and story, 
 
 When your cruel sports are done ; 
 But ye dare not, with all your glory, 
 
 To add to your laurels, one ! " 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 127 
 
 Nor seemed the captive stranger, 
 
 As he stood with lifted head, 
 
 In spite of the chains that bound him, 
 
 In spite of the men around him. 
 To breathe aught else but danger, 
 
 In the hot, fierce words he said. 
 So they sat stone-still, and eyed him 
 
 With a stern but startled stare. 
 But dared not once deride him. 
 
 Or mock at his challenge there. 
 Until, in the hush succeeding 
 
 The stranger's words, arose 
 One famed for his strength and daring, 
 And proud in his noble bearing. 
 Who had won his laurels, leading 
 
 His legion against his foes. 
 Rose Alcys, thus defending 
 
 His friends, in an angry strain : 
 
 *' Blades red with the blood of swordsmen 
 
 Are passports to yon plain. 
 And not the hands of a herdsman. 
 
28 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Made brown by the constant tending 
 Of sheep, on the broad campaign. 
 
 But list ! I will grant you the favor, 
 To-morrow, at set of sun. 
 
 If your courage do not waver, 
 To add to my laurels, one ! " 
 
 Burned the stranger's face with anger. 
 
 At these words so proudly said. 
 And fell, with an angry clangor. 
 
 His chains, that were snapt like thread ! 
 " Beware ! " — as their bright swords glistened. 
 
 In a glance of the rising moon. 
 Said the captive, ''I have listened 
 To the words of yon braggart hero. 
 Whose defiance I think that Nero 
 
 Will repent ere the morrow's noon ! " 
 
 He turned, and each guest, from wonder 
 
 At his strength, had stayed his sword. 
 And he strode to the far rotunda, 
 And bending his tall form under, 
 Passed out — and they spake no word. 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 129 
 
 II. 
 
 The summer sun through the arches 
 Of the amphitheater shone 
 On the polished marble stone, 
 
 And the tall Corinthian porches 
 Of Nero's splendid throne. 
 
 And loud was the din of voices, 
 Impatient for the strife. 
 
 As the heart of a mob rejoices, 
 When the first sharp cry is uttered, 
 And through the set teeth muttered 
 Is the growl for a human life. 
 
 There were faces lit with gladness 
 From Pompeii, and from Rome, 
 
 And captives wrought to madness, 
 
 And those who turned in sadness 
 To their vine-clad hills at home. 
 
 When arose the Emperor Nero, 
 And ordered the cruel game 
 
 That should seal the fate of a hero 
 
 To die a death of shame. 
 6* 
 
I30 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Now Glaucus and Orsena, 
 
 Strong-thewed and stern of face, 
 Had met in the wide arena, 
 
 Mid the shouts of the populace ! 
 Steel clashed in their fierce endeavor, 
 
 By the sharp, quick pass and ward. 
 To triumph now or never, 
 
 To achieve a world's regard. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Blood flowed as the combat lengthened, 
 
 And the shouts of the people rose. 
 And rang to the echo strengthened 
 
 At the dying athlete's throes. 
 Brave Glaucus reeled, and sinking, 
 
 As his dauntless spirit fled. 
 On the sands that were slowly drinking 
 
 His blood, lay prone and dead. 
 
 Fast by the high suggestus 
 Stood Nero, looking down 
 
 On his slaves of the sword and cestus, 
 To whom, with an angry frown, 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 131 
 
 He said : ' ' Bring forth Mauritius, 
 Great AlcyS and Varretius, 
 
 And strip them for the fray ; 
 For I deemed the brave Orsena 
 Had coped in this arena 
 
 With a mightier man than they," 
 
 Now thrice had Alcys triumphed 
 
 In the contests nobly won, 
 And turned, as across the threshold 
 
 Fell the rays of the setting sun. 
 When, amid the applause, a stranger, 
 
 Full fronting the swordsman, stood 
 With an air that boded danger. 
 
 And a visage stern and rude ; 
 Aside he flung his tabard, 
 
 To breast the foeman's steel, 
 And drew from his leathern scabbard, 
 
 His blade with a warrior's zeal. 
 
 No swordsman like Orsena 
 Is yon contestant now, 
 
132 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 But one who, single handed 
 
 With thrice his number banded, 
 To meet in the broad arena, 
 
 Hath made a solemn vow. 
 Then arose a cry of wonder 
 
 At the herdsman's first mad stroke, 
 Which at once with its blow asunder 
 
 The steel of Alcys broke. 
 Who, backward borne, fell under 
 
 The crash, like a smitten oak ! 
 
 * ' Who comes with such front defiant, 
 
 And soul that knows no fear, 
 To meet a foe reliant 
 
 On finding justice here ? " 
 Thus Nero, while a pallor 
 
 His features overspread. 
 * ' We'll test this fellow's valor ! 
 
 Let the wild beasts loose ! " he said. 
 
 Back swung the iron gateway, 
 And hushed was the clamor then, 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. 133 
 
 As with starven fury straightway 
 
 Leaped the tigers from their den. 
 Firm stood the stranger, grasping 
 
 With firmer hand his blade, 
 And his target closer clasping. 
 
 Ere the deadly leap was made. 
 But need was there none of daring ; 
 
 The beasts shrank back with fear, 
 With the men a terror sharing. 
 
 Who were bravest athletes here. 
 Shrank, trembling, nor dared to meet him, 
 
 So that all with amazement stared, 
 And rose with shouts to greet him, 
 
 As one whom the gods had spared 1 
 
 Then spake the mighty hero. 
 As the twilight shadows fell : 
 
 *' Listen, O haughty Nero, 
 And mark my counsel well. 
 
 Though I came with front unbending. 
 
 Or with hands made brown by tending 
 
134 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 My herds by mead or moss, 
 Throughout thy proud dominions, 
 There is none of all thy minions 
 
 Who would dare my path to cross ! " 
 When spake the royal master 
 
 From his throne, in quick reply : 
 *'Do you seek to court disaster. 
 
 And a Nero's arm defy ? 
 Back ! By the gods I swear it,. 
 
 Like a dog this day you die ! " 
 
 Not well did he heed the danger, 
 
 Or his words had not been said. 
 For the sword of the mighty stranger, 
 As the guardsmen sprang behind him, 
 Smote, ere their hands could bind him, 
 The bravest of them dead ! 
 
 Now hearts were filled with terror. 
 And cheeks were blanched with fear. 
 
 And well might Nero falter 
 At the scene before him here ! 
 
THE HERDSMAN OF BAIAE. I35 
 
 For the herdsman stood triumphant, 
 
 Transfigured, grandly tall, 
 With brazen targe unrifted, 
 By the fray, and sword uplifted. 
 
 The mightiest of them all ! 
 
 *' Though you sought my soul to cower, 
 
 And my courage to decry, 
 Behold, I scorn your powder. 
 
 And your royal might defy ! 
 And mark me, haughty Nero, 
 
 Prince, Emperor, as you will, 
 I stand not here a hero. 
 
 To belie your strength, or skill. 
 But I came this day to meet you, 
 
 With thrice a foeman's odds, 
 And in humble garb to teach you 
 
 That your games offend the gods 1 " 
 
 He spake, and by arch and portal 
 The mighty concourse fled ; 
 
136 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 " Of all the gods immortal, 
 
 // is Hercules I " they said. 
 With faces blanched, uplifted, 
 
 They madly hurried all, 
 For the huge walls, rent and rifted, 
 
 Were tottering to their fall ! 
 The great earth groaned and trembled, 
 
 And flying, still the first 
 Of those at the games assembled 
 
 The pale king fled accurst ! 
 And they turned with a look of wonder, 
 
 And called to the gods in vain, 
 As the huge pile swayed asunder, 
 
 And crashed on the darkened plain ! 
 
CASTILIAN. 
 
 What is her beauty like— something fair 
 
 As a sea-nymph under her yellow hair ? 
 
 Or dark like a black-eyed southern maid 
 
 A-doze in her hammock beneath the shade ? 
 
 Do you sit, with the moonlight over your shoulder 
 
 Full in her face, while your heart grows bolder, 
 
 And you laughingly prison her soft white hand, 
 
 With the scent of the rose through the lattice fanned ? 
 
 I can see you climbing the stairway white 
 In the old, old castle, at home, to-night ; 
 While the sun, just setting, enchants your hall 
 With an amber glow over arch and wall. 
 
138 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The ancient tower is clad with vines 
 That half reach over the quaint designs 
 Of the carven window, through which you gaze 
 On the old, old scenes of your childhood days. 
 And I fancy you wandering down the court 
 Where the fountain-dragon still spouts in sport, 
 The rainbows flitting across the spray 
 Of the marble basin the livelong day. 
 
 The silken curtains and cedarn doors 
 
 Swing loftily over the inlaid floors ; 
 
 And steps with a golden balustrade 
 
 Lead down to the lawn in the checkered shade. 
 
 And the fair one dwells 'mid the cactus blooms 
 
 In her own wide hall, while her love consumes 
 
 Her heart, as she toys with her jeweled fan, 
 
 While dreamily couched on a silk divan 
 
 Amid sandal odors ; and a wavy hue 
 
 Of pink and delicious tints gleam through 
 
 The foamy folds of her fleecy gown ; 
 
 And her large eyes, shaded with lashes brown, 
 
 Are aglow in the dusk, as I see you there 
 
 Carelessly greeting your lady fair. 
 
CASTILIAN. 139 
 
 And now as you stand by the terrace wall, 
 While the moonbeams over the sea-waves fall, 
 And she leans on your shoulder with tender grace, 
 And archly looks in your shaded face, 
 
 And your lips 
 
 May never life's trouble annoy, 
 While your Castle in Spain is a dream to enjoy. 
 
LLEWELLYN. 
 
 The moon, with its dainty, tremulous fingers, 
 Was parting the linden's tresses dark, 
 
 As I wandered down through court and garden 
 Of old Llewellyn park. 
 
 I could see a shadow upon the terrace. 
 Could hear the fountain's plashy drip. 
 
 Where Neptune lifted a golden chalice 
 Unto his bearded lip. 
 
 And about the quaint old porch and towers 
 A solemn silence held the gloom ; 
 
 For here, they said, was the haunted mansion, 
 And Guy Llewellyn's tomb ! 
 
LLE WELL YN. 141 
 
 I pushed aside the faded curtain 
 That flapped before a Gothic hall, 
 
 I passed by many a gloomy chamber, 
 I pierced the oaken wall. 
 
 I came at last to the donjon tower ; 
 
 An oak tree groaned, it was midnight 'most. 
 And I knew in that hollow moonlit chamber 
 
 Was Guy Llewellyn's ghost ! 
 
 Upon the pavement the rust had fallen 
 From off his iron coat of mail, 
 
 While out of a chink in his hollow visor 
 There dropped a mouse's tail. 
 
 A rattling wind from the grated casement 
 Swung back the door with a sudden gust. 
 
 And down on the floor, like a sigh escaping, 
 There slipped a mound of dust ! 
 
142 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 I cannot now for my life remember 
 
 Whether I ran with a frightened scream, 
 
 Or whether — indeed I cannot tell you — 
 Maybe 'twas all a dream. 
 
POOR OLD RALPH. 
 
 " You never have heard the merry laughter, 
 
 When coming home from the busy street, 
 Of Flora, romping and running after 
 
 Old Bruno there, with his clumsy feet ! 
 The darlingest bright-eyed little lady 
 
 That ever flaunted a golden curl 1 
 Why, here by the gate, through the garden shady, 
 
 You must have beheld my little girl. 
 
 »' Her dimpled cheeks, like sunny roses. 
 
 Half hid by the hat that was ribboned down, 
 
 Would blush for the love that in trust reposes 
 Under her lashes silken-brown. 
 
144 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Do you see her face at the window yonder, 
 White and thin through the curls of gold? 
 
 She is smiling sweet — but her feet will wander 
 Down to the churchyard still and cold 1 
 
 *'Down to the churchyard, through the grasses, 
 
 The daisies nod by the southern wall, 
 The birds sing sweetly as she passes. 
 
 The breezes whir in the pine tree tall, 
 The cuckoo flowers in love lean over 
 
 To kiss her dainty hands and feet. 
 And fainting sunbeams, over the clover, 
 
 Race with the yellow-bearded wheat. 
 
 " Hither she comes with her flowers faded, 
 
 Of white mossroses and calla sprays, 
 Out and in with her tresses braided. 
 
 Just as she seemed in the olden days. 
 And now she has flitted away in the shadow 
 
 Down in the garden beyond the brook. 
 Laughingly over the hazy meadow. 
 
 Away to the churchyard's quiet nook ! 
 
POOR OLD RALPH. 145 
 
 "Ah ! for the days that we played together, 
 
 The first five years, in a glad content ; 
 When over the fields, through the bloom and heather, 
 
 In shadow and shine we came and went ! 
 Nor ever a thought of the churchyard willow, 
 
 Bowing its sleek hair over the dead. 
 Came to her heart, as she sought her pillow. 
 
 Clasping her wee hands there by the bed I 
 
 **But still you will see her upon the morrow ; 
 
 (So strange that she hastened away to-day. ) 
 You know I am growing old, though sorrow 
 
 Has touched but lightly my locks with gray. 
 The birds are singing ; my love, my darling. 
 
 Is faintly replying good-night to all ; 
 And the wren, the robin, and sweet-voiced starling 
 
 Have flown away to the churchyard wall ! " 
 
THE PHANTOM SCHOONER. 
 
 Over the west lay the tortuous track 
 Of a huge cloud shape streaked yellow and black ; 
 And just at the edge of the sky was a sail, 
 That rocked in the wake of the evening gale. 
 Down on the beach were the sand-trailed nets 
 That the fishers had pulled where the white sea frets 
 The smooth-worn beach ; and the crystal sand 
 Had the print of the boats that had left the land. 
 
 The rain all day from the dappled birch 
 
 Had dripped on the tiles of Southport church ; 
 
 And in zigzag course, by the roadside down 
 
 To the beach, ran streams that were muddy brown ; 
 
 While low to the waves was the gray-ribbed rack, 
 
 All day, and the east wind pushing back ; 
 
THE PHANTOM SCHOONER. 147 
 
 But still you could see, on the wave-wet sand, 
 Where the boats had slid as they left the land. 
 
 But the night set in with just a break 
 
 In the dull gray clouds, while the glimmering wake 
 
 Where the strange craft rocked, and that pale streak there, 
 
 Were signs that the morrow would open fair. 
 
 Then a drizzling rain came on apace. 
 
 And many a sad soul through the place 
 
 Heard the greedy waves as they lapped the sand 
 
 On the spot where the boats had left the land. 
 
 Some heard the sound with a sob, and some 
 With a sudden shriek as if death had come. 
 And well would it be were there such relief 
 When human hearts are rent with grief ! 
 Brave men to the seas had sailed alone. 
 And their nets were left on the wave-worn stone. 
 And for yon strange craft, through the yielding sand 
 They had pushed their boats as they left the land. 
 
 There to the west they had seen it oft, 
 A full-rigged craft with its flag aloft 
 
148 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 At certain times, and 'twas said by the wise 
 
 That clouds would change, and that winds would rise, 
 
 When that swift storm-schooner stood west at sea ; 
 
 But the young men laughed in mockery 
 
 At the old men's words, and down the sand 
 
 They guided their boats, and left the land. 
 
 The storm-wind rattled latch and hasp, 
 
 It tangled the birch-boughs in its grasp, 
 
 Wrenching the branches along the eaves 
 
 Of Southport church 'neath the sighing leaves 
 
 And many a window a sad face pressed. 
 
 Looking over the waves to the far-off west, 
 
 Far over the tract of the sea-beach sand, 
 
 Where the fishermen pushed their boats from land. 
 
 It was hard. on midnight, when o'er the sea 
 The schooner loomed up sullenly ! 
 And without a trace of the missing crew 
 The boats of the fishermen came in view, 
 
THE PHANTOM SCHOONER. 149 
 
 Each overturned in the rocking waves, 
 Where the brave lads found their ocean graves, 
 On that sorrowful day when down the sand 
 They gallantly pushed their boats from land I 
 
BONNY BELLE. 
 
 The spider has woven his silken bridge, 
 
 And swung it across the walk, 
 And high on the sea-beat slated ridge 
 
 The bittern and heron stalk. 
 The sun went down but an hour ago 
 
 In the glow of the crimson west, 
 And floating afar in a dreamy glow 
 
 Is the moon with its purple crest. 
 
 The grove, and the garden, the castle tall, 
 With its turrets old and brown, 
 
 Are illumined to-night for the festival 
 By the ocean beyond the town. 
 
BONNY BELLE. 151 
 
 The waxen lights from their crystals glance, 
 
 Reflecting the scene below, 
 While merry folk in the mazy dance 
 
 Are gliding to and fro. 
 
 There is none so fair of the brilliant throng 
 
 As the fair-eyed Bonny Belle ; 
 A year ago you could hear her song 
 
 Come echoing down the dell. 
 She is sad to-night, and her splendid hair 
 
 Droops heavy in waves of gold. 
 But her lustrous eyes so strangely glare 
 
 And daze with a charm untold ! 
 
 Ah ! white as the driven snow her face. 
 
 Death-white for her British pride. 
 There was one, you know, in our little place, 
 
 Who loved her until he died ! 
 Lilies and roses are blooming low 
 
 In the garden beneath the trees, 
 But violets, faded a year ago. 
 
 Are dearer to her than these. 
 
153 . CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 She is leaning over the lattice-edge, 
 
 And her heart its treasure craves ; 
 The music floats by the garden hedge, 
 
 But memories crowd its waves. 
 And the past comes back in a mournful dream, 
 
 As she sits in the moonlight dim. 
 And the opening gates of her heaven gleam 
 
 A moment in vision of him ! 
 
SHADOWS. 
 
 Shadows are climbing under the leaves, 
 
 Shadows are running across the wheat, 
 As a patient weaver sits and weaves, 
 
 Shadows toil in the lazy heat. 
 Across the pavement and down the walk 
 You can see the curious shadows stalk, 
 Dancing lightly across the floor, 
 
 Tumbling over the garden wall, 
 Chasing the sunshine through the door, 
 
 And out again by the open hall. 
 
 Shadows are weaving a net of gold, 
 All in a group beneath the trees. 
 
 Down in the depths of the forest old 
 Shadows are thick as swarming bees. 
 7* 
 
154 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Now through the grass of the meadow lot, 
 Where the sun was glaring fierce and hot 
 But a moment ago, the shadows race 
 
 Swiftly over the stubble now, 
 Cooling the horse's weary face, 
 
 And fanning the farmer's heated brow. 
 
 Shadows are swinging across the creek, 
 
 As the mill-wheel turns in the cooling tide. 
 Shadows are playing hide and seek 
 
 In the hemlock boughs by the water side. 
 And, stealing over the workshop floor, 
 Shadows are telling of rest in store, 
 Cheering the toil of the August days, 
 
 Lifting the heart to its task again, 
 Chasing behind the clouds the rays. 
 
 And pushing over the summer rain. 
 
 Shadows are riding the restless breeze, 
 And trembling away from the angry heat ; 
 
 Crouching under the waving trees, 
 
 And rushing forth from their safe retreat ; 
 
SHADOWS. 155 
 
 Bringing relief, on the dusty road, 
 
 To the traveler sinking beneath his load. 
 
 Shadows are cooling the heated air, 
 
 Swaying with breezes to and fro ; 
 Shadows are busy everywhere. 
 
 In the sky above and the earth below. 
 
 Shadows are forming against the wall 
 
 Of the lordly mansion in martial lines ; 
 Shadows are bending their figures tall, 
 
 And toiling under the cottage vines. 
 In at the window to cheer the maid, 
 Out in the bustling marts of trade. 
 Shadows wend as the daylight wanes ; 
 
 And over the church-spires of the town. 
 Peering in through the window-panes, 
 
 Shadows wait till the sun goes down. 
 
IMPANELING A JURY. 
 
 An awful deed, I'm told, was done to-day, 
 And Justice winked and let her balance fall ; 
 
 A dozen men — good, honest men, they say — 
 Were drawn and quart?ered in the City Hall. 
 
THE RUSSIAN BALL. 
 
 To Tammany Terrace, above Broadway, 
 Some years ago — so their neighbors say — 
 
 From their cottage in Spuyten Duyvil, 
 The Lifkinses came, on an autumn day. 
 In a coach and four, with their footman gay, 
 And an air so lofty and recherche^ 
 
 As only a prince could rival. 
 
 The people wondered and stared and talked. 
 And whether the Lifkinses rode or walked. 
 They led in the whirl of fashion ; 
 
158 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Their marble mansion was white and cold, 
 
 But its blaze of light and its glitter of gold 
 
 At night spoke volumes of wealth untold, 
 
 And of pride as a ruling passion. 
 
 John Lifkins, honest — as honesty goes — 
 Made carpets of texture as fine as those 
 
 In any bazar at Brussels ; 
 In a palace now (it was once a farm) 
 His dinners were famous, cooked to a charm, 
 And he prided himself on his strength of arm, 
 
 His oysters and other mussels. 
 
 But gold and flowers, 
 And yachts and bowers, 
 And fountains of perfumed water, 
 And cellars filled with the choicest wines. 
 And, were he possessed of Golconda's mines, 
 He would give up all, for the love of one — 
 "The darlingest creature under the sun" — 
 As he called his stylish daughter. 
 
THE RUSSIAN BALL. i59 
 
 Of late this lady, in spite olfite, 
 Abjured society, sat up late, 
 Refused all callers, and in this state 
 
 Told suitors to go to — Texas. 
 Indeed, Miss Lifkins, without a care 
 Yoxfite or fol-de-rol, here or there, 
 Was worried to death over what to wear 
 
 At the ball to the Duke Alexis. 
 
 Piled to the ceiling in rich array, 
 
 In the damask room of the mansion, lay. 
 
 In the most forlorn confusion. 
 Silks that crinkled and gleamed with gold ; 
 Bright brocades of a Tyrian fold ; 
 Shawls from Arabia ; velvets, too. 
 That came from the Orient ; laces new 
 And fine as gossamer ; jewels rare 
 Flashed into flame on couch and chair, 
 And all united the charm and air 
 
 Of the most complete illusion. 
 
 Time flew apace. 
 The days of grace 
 
i6o CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Allotted to seamstress, servants, and maids, 
 To shape the silks, and to match the shades, 
 
 Were very nearly ended. 
 And, grand as a princess of Ispahan, 
 From sparkling slipper to jeweled fan, 
 Robed in the costliest satin and lace. 
 Miss Lifl{:ins, in person a queen of grace, 
 
 In fancy the ball attended. 
 
 II. 
 
 Jim Briggs and Alexis ! 
 Of course it perplexes 
 The guileless reader to find the clue 
 That brings Mr. Briggs into prominent view 
 With our royal guest, and unites the two 
 
 In so close a poetic relation ; 
 But it's plain the reader ought to be made 
 To understand the plot that was laid, 
 The particular Tammany business trade, 
 The kind of tribute the father paid 
 
 For his daughter's exaltation. 
 
THE RUSSIAN BALL. i6i 
 
 As a ward politician 
 Jim held a commission 
 As henchman true of a Tammany chief, 
 Though his regular business was that of a thief ; 
 But a venture failed, and he came to grief : 
 
 He was caught in flagrante deliciu. 
 So Jim was jugged for his little whim 
 That all loose trifles belonged to him, 
 For the ''peelers " were sharp, and they went for Jim, 
 
 And the man they go for they stick to. 
 
 And now a delicate problem arose ; 
 
 For the proof was as plain as the very nose 
 
 On the face of the Judge — it was red as a rose — 
 
 And Jim, in his ward, as the story goes. 
 
 Was a fellow of great signif 'cance. 
 If the Judge was to set the prisoner clear, 
 It was plain the complainant mustn't appear. 
 So he counted the thing on his fingers' ends ; 
 " Arrah ! who are this blasted complainant's frinds ? 
 
 And at once he bethought him of Lifkins. 
 
I62 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 So Lifkins was seen, and his Honor agreed 
 
 If complainant was mum, and the prisoner freed, 
 
 That he'd go to a man — in a whisper — and hed 
 
 Got hold ('twas a little affair of a deed) 
 
 Of a man that the biggest had toasted and tea-ed 
 
 (Mr. Lilkins himself had a hold upon Tweed), 
 
 And he thought that this couldn't help but succeed 
 
 "In bagging the Russian Committee." 
 So the thing was done and Jim went free, 
 And the hand of Alexis is given in fee 
 To Justice slighted in mockery. 
 "So, so," says Lilkins, "so, so," says he, 
 " If a man of my business capacity 
 Should find himself unable to tree 
 Your Mr. Alexis from over the sea, 
 
 It would certainly be a pity ! " 
 
 III. 
 Such a flash of lights on the avenue ! 
 Such a fuss and flutter and great ado ! 
 Such a haste and hurry and hullabaloo 
 On the night of the grand ovation ! 
 
THE RUSSIAN BALL. 163 
 
 There were carriages stamped with a coronet, 
 And liveried footmen as black as jet, 
 And folks from abroad whom the Court Gazette 
 Extolled for their lofty station. 
 
 But who shall attempt to describe the hall ? 
 Its cost in adornment of floor and wall 
 Was never equaled. The Russian Ball 
 
 Was high on a gorgeous level. 
 Aladdin's palace could scarce compare, 
 Or Haidee s home, with the brilliant glare 
 Of the lights that shone for Alexis there 
 
 On the night of the Russian revel. 
 
 Tropical flowers, 
 
 And cooling showers 
 From perfumed water, refreshed the soul. 
 But, to draw it mild, as we must, the whole 
 Of the dazzling picture was all that Claude, 
 In the Lady of Lyons, or Tennyson's Maud 
 Could need to be contented. 
 
1 64 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 But all the ladies in foam and lace, 
 In finish of fashion and flush of grace, 
 Of the daughter of Lifkins, of Tammany Place, 
 With envy were half demented. 
 
 In a whirl of splendor the waltzers glide 
 In voluptuous measure ; on every side 
 There are eyes that follow with joy and pride 
 
 The Duke and the lady with him. 
 And the daughter of Lifkins, the honored one ! 
 Was ever a woman under the sun 
 So blessed or happy ? Indeed there was none 
 
 In annals of prose or rhythm. 
 
 Too soon, alas ! 
 
 Did the moments pass. 
 And Miss Liflvins, the center of bells and beaux, 
 Was flattered, praised, and admired by those 
 Less fortunate ones who'd have given all 
 To dance with the Duke at the Russian Ball, 
 Or even to touch his raiment. 
 
 ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 5jC 
 
THE RUSSIAN BALL, 165 
 
 And now we say, and we hold it true, 
 Success is certain, whatever you do, 
 If you're sharp and can manage a handsome trade, 
 And can offer goods that were never made 
 To your city for audit and payment. 
 
 For Lifkins honest — as honesty goes — 
 Cajoled the rulers, and governed those 
 Who make their mark by repeated blows 
 
 In Tammany rows and tussles. 
 And thus the grandest results ensue ; 
 There's nothing a man is unable to do 
 If he wins the ear of the crafty crew, 
 Like honest Lifkins — although they knew 
 
 He was hoggish and raised his brussels. 
 
 For wealth will win 
 
 If leagued with sin ; 
 
 And people will bow to the golden calf, 
 
 And meekly tolerate rogues who laugh 
 
 At the ignorant masses, and regulate half 
 
 Of society, rank, and fashion ; 
 
i66 
 
 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 So ''it's dimes and dollars, and dollars and dimes," 
 For the honest man must live betimes. 
 Though the rounds of the ladder on which he climbs 
 Are knaveries, frauds, deceits, and crimes, 
 And envy and hate and passion. 
 
OUR RIFLE TEAM. 
 
 (Delmonico's, September 6, 1875.) 
 
 The festal hall right merrily is decked with banners bright, 
 The green and gold upon the left, the star-flag on the 
 
 right, 
 And proudly swells the music, and pleasant does it seem 
 To welcome home again to-night our famous rifle team. 
 
 And there are pyramids of grape that glow with ruddy 
 
 flame. 
 Gunpowder from the canisters, and brace and stock of 
 
 game; 
 
 And many a barrel held in stock is sighted all in line 
 By servants trained at will to draw a bead upon the wine. 
 
i68 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The loaded mussels gleam in view, huge pears come in 
 
 by fours, 
 The apples with their rival pits cling stoutly to their cores ; 
 The rest — well, for a hundred yards, the targets brightly 
 
 gleam 
 With choicest stores of viands for our famous rifle team. 
 
 And Gildersleeve the story told, with modesty and grace, 
 
 How old Reliable lay down and fired on his face ; 
 
 How 'twixt his knees grave Fulton hit the target full and 
 
 fair, 
 And Coleman jauntily reached out and struck the target 
 
 square. 
 
 How Yale with sharp precision doubled up along the 
 ground 
 
 And bored the center with a cheer that made the plain re- 
 sound. 
 
 And Dakin, true of heart and hand — it seems almost a 
 dream — 
 
 Scored bull's-eye after bull's-eye for our famous rifle 
 team. 
 
OUR RIFLE TEAM. 169 
 
 Then he toasts the noble Irishmen whose nerve and skill 
 
 had won 
 And set the green above the red at far-famed Wimbledon ; 
 He tells of fair Killarney's lakes, of banquets here and 
 
 there, 
 Of the kissing of the Blarney Stone, and of the colleens 
 
 fair. 
 
 And every banqueter leaps up to drink the toast of toasts — 
 To the green old isle of Erin, the most generous of hosts ! 
 Then Ireland's songs are proudly sung, and pleasant 
 
 does it seem 
 To welcome home again to-night our famous rifle team. 
 8 
 
THE STATUE. 
 
 Push back the vines ; the moon to-night 
 Is peeping through the leafy lattice, 
 
 And, sweetly smiling in the light, 
 
 Behold the dainty figure white 
 Of Echo, yonder, 'gazing at us ! 
 
 (Echo loquitur.') 
 
 " Do these recall the days bygone. 
 
 The terrace urns, and hanging flowers, 
 The winding walks, the sloping lawn, 
 The park, the deer, the timid fawn. 
 The pillared porches and the towers ? 
 
THE STATUE. 171 
 
 ''What splendid triumphs you have seen, 
 You charming bit of pique and malice, 
 
 Within these halls, ma belle Nadine, 
 
 Where people recognize you queen, 
 
 And throng the chambers of the palace ! 
 
 ''Behold, in yonder wide saloon. 
 The swift pink robe and glances tender 
 
 Of lord and lady, where the moon 
 
 On velvet cloak and flashing shoon 
 
 Has slanted through the waving splendor. 
 
 " Keen blades are crossed by flash of eyes, 
 Bright pennons wave in coyish laughter. 
 
 And cavaliers in smiles or sighs 
 
 Pursue the foe whose badge they prize. 
 While rival knights ride boldly after ! 
 
 ' ' You heard the Percys were blasees. 
 
 Whose beauty, spite of any reason. 
 Was once the topic of the day ? 
 Ah, yes — they faded quite away, 
 
 Like butterflies when out of season. 
 
172 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 " But stay ! why did the duchess praise 
 The song to-night your husband sung us ? 
 
 'Tis she whose sly, coquettish ways 
 
 So charmed the duke oi ennuyees^ 
 
 The most determined bore among us. 
 
 * * I saw your husband gaily twine 
 
 And kiss, despite her sweet confusion, 
 Her hair so like to golden wine, 
 Where through the oriel window shine 
 Such foamy folds of white illusion. 
 
 *' I heard his cadenced love-words flow 
 
 So like the language of a poet ; 
 Her bosom sweet was heaving low. 
 And, too, her white hands trembled so — 
 But prythee, does my lady know it .? 
 
 "But so it goes — Oh ! I can tell 
 
 Such news, such gossip, and such scandal ! 
 You see I'm Echo — all a shell — 
 Plaster of Paris — scan me well — 
 
 I'ln hollow down, from crown to sandal! " 
 
THE STATUE. 173 
 
 So I've been nodding here beside 
 The window while my lord reposes ! 
 
 So vexed I am, I could have cried, 
 
 And yonder statue seeks to hide 
 Its laughter in among the roses ! 
 
INTO THE LIGHT. 
 
 If no hereafter, 
 Then why the sorrow, the cruel pain, 
 The bitter thoughts, and the silent tears, 
 The lifelong yearning of useless years, 
 If no hereafter 
 To bring us the friends of our youth again ? 
 
 For a little while. 
 And the rose will fall by the garden bed ; 
 The life of the oak, grown still and old. 
 Will flutter away in leaves of gold. 
 For a little while, 
 Till another summer has touched the dead. 
 
INTO THE LIGHT. 175 
 
 Through many a day, 
 The soul is seeking a region wide, 
 Descending a mountain-path alone, 
 Stumbling in turn o'er brier and stone, 
 Through many a day. 
 While the sun shines bright on the other side. 
 
 Where the golden gates 
 Of the sky are open, and shining through. 
 Is the clear soft light of a summer day, 
 That is melting the gloomy shades away. 
 Where the golden gates 
 Are flooding with light the dreamy blue. 
 
 And looking through tears. 
 Will the sunbeams break into rainbow form ; 
 And the smile return to the grief-worn face. 
 And the heart will assume its old-time grace ; 
 And looking through tears. 
 Will the clouds depart of a summer storm. 
 
HOMESPUN.— A FRAGMENT. 
 
 Yon cross-roads, where the tavern stood of yore, 
 
 With creaking sign above the welcome door, 
 
 No longer form the center of a town 
 
 Of quaint simplicity and old renown. 
 
 The country store, in boyhood's days so still, 
 
 That from its porch we heard, beyond the hill, 
 
 The drowsy tinklings of the fleecy fold. 
 
 Is but a memory grown dim and old. 
 
 No longer where the schoolhouse stood are seen 
 
 The urchins playing on the village green ; 
 
 Nor, sidling near the open door, you find 
 
 The tardy lad of hesitating mind. 
 
 The church is standing by the winding brook, 
 
 But wears no more its old familiar look ; 
 
HOMESPUN.— A FRAGMENT. I77 
 
 A gilded vane now tops the spire, and seems 
 
 To catch the sunset of our boyish dreams. 
 
 Again I seem to hear, across the way, 
 
 The scythe's hoarse ring through meadows sweet with hay, 
 
 Where slopes the hill, across whose foot-worn pass 
 
 To trip the men we tied the twisted grass. 
 
 The shaded stream, within whose waters cool. 
 As boys we bathed in play-hours after school, 
 Now winds its slow length round each rocky ridge 
 That once lay deep beneath the covered bridge. 
 The farmhouse stood on yonder hill, amid 
 Luxuriant vines, and with its roof half hid 
 By oaks through whose cool foliage the breeze 
 Would lull the sense like sound of summer seas. 
 How oft amid the old haunts have we strayed. 
 Marked well each shaded hill and sunlit glade. 
 Romped through the halls or 'neath the chestnut tree, 
 Played at our games with all an urchin's glee ! 
 
 Here stood the district school-house, and the lane 
 Wound yonder, past the fields of waving grain. 
 
178 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 And there, the orchard, where full well we knew 
 
 The tree whereon the biggest apples grew. 
 
 Here was the path, beside the favorite swing, 
 
 That led unto the bubbling hillside spring ; 
 
 And here the woods, where oft we sought with zest 
 
 The chipmunk's haunt, and many a robin's nest. 
 
 The master, bowed by studious midnight toil, 
 
 Whose scowl made e'en the stoutest lad recoil, 
 
 High at his desk, his copy-lines to fill, 
 
 Seems slowly measuring each sentence still ; 
 
 While through the window slants the sunshine warm 
 
 Where sleepy urchins lounge about the form, 
 
 With dog-eared spelling-books, whose drowsy words 
 
 Grow drowsier with the far-off chirp of birds. 
 
 And wearily the hanging map is scanned, 
 
 Where voyages to foreign ports are planned, 
 
 Till, from some pleasant dream, with sudden bound 
 
 The heart-throbs quicken at the ferule's sound. 
 
THE VAMPIRE. 
 
 Ah I she is so wondrous fair. 
 
 So queenly and wise in her way ! 
 Though her terrible tongue, they say, 
 
 From its poisonous, deadly lair 
 When it crouches will strike and slay, 
 
 Before you are aware I 
 
 Her terrible love endures 
 
 For a season brief and gay. 
 
 To wait on her night and day 
 She has a hundred wooers 
 
 Who worship her eyes, they say ; 
 But should she fasten her lips on yours. 
 
 She would drain your heart away ! 
 
MOONLIGHT ON THE WATER. 
 
 I. 
 
 Through crystal peaks 
 
 Of the moonlit ocean, 
 The phantom hosts 
 
 Break into motion ; 
 Bright are the banners gaily swinging ; 
 List to the music sweetly ringing ! 
 Over the waves 
 
 The bugles calling ; 
 Hark to the echoes 
 
 Faintly falling ! 
 
 II. 
 Far to the north, 
 
 From icy regions, 
 Glitter the ranks 
 
 Of the viking legions. 
 
MOONLIGHT ON THE WA TER. 
 
 Snow-white plumes in the distance dancing, 
 Bright blue spears in the moonlight glancing, 
 Over the waves 
 
 The falchions gleaming, 
 Long snow-beards 
 
 In the cool wind streaming. 
 
 III. 
 Up from the south, 
 
 Graceful and tender, 
 Steeds are prancing 
 In martial splendor. 
 Moonlit lines to the left deploying. 
 Troops to the right in turn annoying, 
 Over the waves 
 
 Quick flashes sending, 
 The cannons' roar 
 
 In the distance blending I 
 
 IV. 
 
 Out from the east, 
 
 Through gleaming arches. 
 
 With waving crescent 
 An army marches. 
 
i82 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Jeweled turbans are gaily flashing, 
 Hoofs of the steeds in the moonlight splashing ; 
 Over the waves, 
 
 In the water twinkling. 
 Bells in the breeze 
 Are faintly tinkling ! 
 
 V. 
 
 By moonlit paths 
 
 Of the purple ocean, 
 The phantom armies 
 
 Are all in motion. 
 Bright are the banners gaily swinging ; 
 List to the music sweetly ringing ! 
 Over the waves 
 
 The flags are flying, 
 And voices faint 
 
 Are dying, dying ! 
 
THE INVISIBLE PRINCE. 
 
 A white steed champing his silver hit 
 
 At the palace porch, and a blonde-haired page 
 At his side are all I recall of it. 
 
 A quaint old picture it was of an age 
 When the round table knights were in their prime, 
 
 When the dragon banners above the walls 
 Of a castle swung to a golden rhyme 
 
 Of royal cheer in the grand old halls. 
 When the peacock basked on the sunlit height, 
 
 And the shout of the men, at coit and card, 
 Came drowsily up from the courtyard, bright 
 
 With caparisoned steeds in the castle yard. 
 
 I see you yet in your womanish grace, 
 
 As a child, when together we read the book, 
 
 In that olden time, with a sniile on your face. 
 Or a doubtful stare in your troubled look. 
 
1 84 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 But the story is true, for the giant old 
 
 Is the sa??ie to-day, in his halls asleep ; 
 And the fairy to-day as a bird has told 
 
 Where the priiicess is chained in the donjon keep. 
 
 Now Leander, the prince, was inclined to roam, 
 
 Ere he dwelt a year by the water blue, 
 And 'tis said that the evenings he spent at home 
 
 In the Island of Calm Delights were few. 
 For what with the palace with its treasures of gold 
 
 And its priceless jewels of every name, 
 There was scarcely a statue that wasn't old. 
 
 Or a fountain that didn't seem dull and tame. 
 
 So he favored the club or the grand cafe. 
 
 In luxurious revel, 'tvvixt cards and wine. 
 Or with Madame the duchess, after the^play. 
 
 In choicest seclusion would frequently dine. 
 But when, in the silence of night, unawares, 
 
 The princess, transformed to a witch upon crutches. 
 Came hobbling alone up the moonlighted stairs. 
 
 With his cap of enchantment he whisked off the 
 duchess. 
 
THE INVISIBLE PRINCE. 185 
 
 How sad that the one you were wont to admire 
 Should become such a mischievous rogue at best / 
 
 But the story is vouched /or, and if you desire, 
 
 While you swing in your hammock Til tell you the rest : 
 
 There \veve/e?es without number, and parties and balls, 
 
 In the city's bright gardens that were white with the 
 glare 
 Of the myriad lamps that outshone from the walls 
 
 The moonlight that fell through the foliage there ; 
 Quaint nooks in the shrubbery, fountains aglow 
 
 With the hues of the rainbow, and music divine ; 
 In short there was nothing omitted, you know, 
 
 That an exquisite taste could conceive or design. 
 
 Here oft of an evening Leander, arrayed 
 
 Like a proud cavalier, in a realm he was new to, 
 With the queens of society artlessly strayed, 
 
 Forgetful of her whom he vowed to be true to. 
 For a tempting arch face, that would hide in the bowers 
 
 Or peep through the ferns, in bewilderment flew 
 Like a bird to his heart, as a bee to the flowers. 
 
 Though who the masked beauty was nobody knew ! 
 
1 86 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 She flashed in the throng by the triple-arched gate 
 
 Of the palace, at times, and again in the crowd 
 Where the king was enthroned in magnificent state, 
 
 In the midst of his courtiers haughty and proud. 
 But in vain did the prince follow foolishly after ; 
 
 For the creature who thrilled him with rapture and 
 bliss 
 Only fluttered her fan in his face, or with laughter 
 
 Afar would coquettishly toss him a kiss. 
 
 But once, as she passed in the glare of the lamps 
 
 On the arm of a rival, he saw with a frown 
 That her escort — of all of the world's wicked scamps — 
 
 Was that famous old Bluebeard of doubtful renown. 
 Out — out by the gate — then on to the road, 
 
 He followed post-haste till they entered a carriage, 
 When, donning his cap, with impatience he strode, 
 
 To prevent at the castle a runaway marriage. 
 
 Now high on the cliff from a village, the castle 
 Of Bluebeard looms up like a sentinel host, 
 
 Where the clatter and shout of retainer and vassal 
 Pierce weirdly the night like the cries of a ghost. 
 
THE INVISIBLE PRINCE. 187 
 
 And out of the lone lover's window on high, 
 
 Which the villager bards have embalmed in their 
 sonnets, 
 
 They say, when the moon is at full in the sky, 
 
 That witches look down with their cone-shaped bonnets. 
 
 Here Leander arrived, when the moon in the sea 
 
 Like a hag's white face was wrinkled and wizen, 
 And stood at the gates that he knew to be 
 
 The entrance, alas ! to a terrible prison, 
 Outside of whose walls no stories were told 
 
 Of the wives that were wedded and doomed to die, 
 Or the tall bell-tower, grown black and old, 
 
 Where the white shapes swing when the wind sweeps by. 
 
 Past warden and tipstaff, unseen by them all, 
 
 He slipped through the gates in his magical cap, 
 Pushing over the groom in the dim-lighted hall, 
 
 And refreshing the page with a vigorous rap. 
 So he waited the coming of Bluebeard, who seemed, 
 
 As he entered the hall of the castle in state. 
 Like a tiger whose eyes in the torchlight gleamed 
 
 With the passion unquenched of a terrible hate ! 
 
I S3 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Now, as Bluebeard ascended the steps with his bride, 
 
 So soon to surrender her bright young Hfe, 
 He tossed back the vail of the one at his side, 
 
 And disclosed the sweet face of Leander's own wife ! 
 Then unto the maids whom he met at the door 
 
 He resigned her, and counted his keys with a sigh, 
 As they hung at his belt ; but in counting them o'er, 
 
 He hummed an old song of a spider and fly. 
 
 Do you ask if Leander made havoc ai once 
 
 With the castle and Bluebeard of famous renown P 
 Or rescued the lady? You dear little dunce! 
 
 'Tis a story applied to your own little town. 
 For the wretch, when he found that the mask was his spouse, 
 
 He fell on the neck of old Bluebeard, and wept, 
 And blessed him — the7i hurried away to carouse 
 
 In ihe hall where his choicest of liquors were kept I 
 
THE OWL. 
 
 The birds had folded their wings to sleep, 
 
 And the moon was low in the west, 
 And an owl toohooed as two lovers wooed, 
 
 Clasped to each other's breast. 
 "Te-hee," said the maid — "To-who-o? " said the owl- 
 
 For their s^rammar was none of the best. 
 
 ''And when I am sad, I will come te-hee," 
 
 Said the maiden with eager zest ; 
 ''To who ? " said the lover — " To-who-o ? " said the owl- 
 
 "To you, my dearest and best." 
 ** To-woo-o ! " said the owl, as he slid away 
 
 And flew to his downy nest. 
 
A CENTURION DYING AT THE GATES OF 
 ROME. 
 
 Here, beneath these Titan arches, 
 Where a phantom army marches, 
 
 From the Pontine meadows Romeward, 
 Into shadowy regions homeward, 
 
 Thou, at end of toil and trouble, 
 Daimon, brother, soul, and double. 
 
 As thyself from me thou freest. 
 Speak and tell me what thou seest. 
 
 Gazing tip-toed through the shadows, 
 Far into the twilight meadows ; 
 
 Tell me, ere this body, bleeding, 
 Bids adieu to earth receding. 
 
A CENTURION D YING A T ROME. 191 
 
 All thou seest, all thou knowest, 
 Of that land to which thou goest. 
 
 Tell me all, thou unseen Power, 
 Unto whom a slave I cower, 
 
 Ere the cord that binds is broken, 
 Ere the farewell word is spoken ; 
 
 For I hear the shouting legions 
 Faintly, from some far-off regions, 
 
 Whither thou, with outstretched fingers. 
 Cautiously, as one who lingers 
 
 In the darkness, like a stranger, 
 Bideth, waiting death or danger I 
 
 Oh ! the anguish, and the failing 
 Of that strength so unavailing ! 
 
 Mine the past to-day in sorrow. 
 Thine the future with the morrow ; 
 
 Mine the short unfinished story, 
 Thine the fruits of fame and glory. 
 
192 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Yet at times my heart rejoices 
 At the Hsp of childish voices, 
 
 And I see, as one that's dreaming, 
 Far away the village gleaming 
 
 In the twilight — life hath crowned me- 
 Loving arms I know are round me. 
 
 But the earth is dark and lonely, 
 And I feel thy presence only ; 
 
 Thou at end of pain and trouble, 
 Daimon, brother, soul, and double. 
 
 Bright thy face is in a vision : 
 Tell me, are the fields Elysian 
 
 Breaking brightly through the portal 
 That doth lead to life immortal ? 
 
 Silent — and the light is waning ; 
 All of life is past regaining. 
 
 Silent — and thou standest o'er me. 
 Pointing in the gloom before me. 
 
A CENTURION DYING A T ROME, 193 
 
 Farewell Rome : of all your splendor 
 Memories linger soft and tender ; 
 
 While beneath your glorious arches 
 Slowly now the army marches — 
 
 Halts before this crumbling column — 
 Stands majestic, weird, and solemn ; 
 
 And the Night, from plain and river, 
 Lifts the Day to God forever. 
 
ON THE STEPS OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 Down the broad white steps of the Vatican, 
 
 With a rat-a-tat-tat, 
 And the cHng-clang of saber, an officer ran, 
 
 A signal to people, this way and that, 
 As he mounted his steed at the outer gate, 
 That the Pope was approaching, in solemn state, 
 
 Through the gloomy-walled rotunda. 
 
 Swiss helmet and pike in the warm light shone, 
 
 While above, to the west, 
 The dome of St. Peter's reflected the sun, 
 
 Like a Titan buckler upheld to the crest, 
 As the equipage grand to the entrance swept. 
 And his Holiness, blessing the people, stepped 
 
 To the coach mid a buzz of wonder. 
 
ON THE STEPS OF THE VA TICAN. 195 
 
 With outriders clashing their swords at heel 
 
 In a flurry of dust, 
 With their waving plumes and their flashing steel, 
 Through swarms of the wicked, through ranks of 
 the just, 
 By the roadside prone, to the Pincian Way 
 The coach dashed on — and the city lay 
 To the south in its hazy splendor. 
 
 Meadow and marsh, in the setting sun, 
 
 Through a purple mist, 
 Seemed in a dream as the day was done ; 
 
 While the cloud-lights twinkling with amethyst 
 Fell athwart the church, and cathedral dome, 
 Arch, column, and tower of ancient Rome, 
 
 With the touch of a silence tender. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDEL- 
 BERG CASTLE. 
 
" High and hoar on the forehead of the Jettenbiihl stands 
 the castle of Heidelberg. Behind it rise the oak-crested 
 hills of the Geissberg and Kaiserstuhl, and in front, from 
 the wide terrace of masonry, you can almost throw a stone 
 upon the roofs of the town, so close do they lie beneath. 
 Above this terrace rises the broad front of the chapel of 
 Saint Udalrich. On the left stands the slender octagon 
 tower of the horologue ; and on the right, a huge round 
 tower, battered and shattered by the mace of war, shores up 
 with its broad shoulders the beautiful palace and garden-ter- 
 race of Elizabeth, wife of Count Palatine Frederick. In the 
 rear are olden palaces and towers, forming a vast irregular 
 quadrangle : Rodolph's ancient castle, with its Gothic glori- 
 ette and fantastic gables; the Giant's Tower, guarding the 
 drawbridge over the moat ; the Rent Tower, with the lin- 
 den trees growing on the summit, and the magnificent Ritter- 
 saal of Otho Henry, Count Palatine of the Rhine and Grand 
 Seneschal of the Roman Empire. From the gardens behind 
 the castle you pass under the archway of the Giant's Tower 
 into the great court-yard. The diverse architecture of differ- 
 ent ages strikes the eye, and curious sculptures. In niches 
 
HEIDELBERG CASTLE. '99 
 
 on the wall of Saint Udalrich's chapel stand rows of 
 knights in armor broken and dismembered, and on the 
 front of Otho's Rittersaal, the heroes of Jewish history and 
 classic fable. You enter the open and desolate chambers of 
 the ruin, and on every side are medallions and family arms, 
 the globe of the Empire and the golden fleece, or the eagle 
 of the CiEsars, resting on the escutcheons of Bavaria and the 
 Palatinate. Over the windows and doorways and chimney- 
 pieces are sculptures and moldings of exquisite workman- 
 ship- and the eye is bewildered by the profusion of cary- 
 atides, and arabesques, and rosettes, and fan-like flutmgs, and 
 garlands of fruits and flowers and acorns, and bullocks- 
 heads with draperies of foliage, and muzzles of lions holdmg 
 rincs in their teeth. The cunning hand of art was busy for 
 six^centuries in raising and adorning these walls ; the mail- 
 ed hands of time and war have defaced and overthrown 
 them in less than two. Next to the Alhambra of Granada, 
 the castle of Heidelberg is the most magnificent rum of the 
 middle ages."-L0NGFELL0Ws Hyperion. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 
 ga^ i^t Ak 'ghmc Hex 3xUmt\xixiV* 
 
 What mean those lights that fret the leafy wood ? 
 
 And whence the melody that softly falls 
 To-night from yonder dusky solitude, 
 
 Where bats are flitting round the castle walls 
 
 Of Heidelberg, the while the cuckoo calls 
 Its mate, awakened from a slumber warm ? 
 
 Behold ye not the shapes that haunt the halls 
 That once entranced the soul with all the charm 
 Of minstrelsy and rout, and many a grand alarm ? 
 
202 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 II. 
 
 The moon has flung its banners on the sward ; 
 
 The tall oaks sentinel the avenue ; 
 Above, the cloud-host marshaled hitherward 
 
 Have pitched their white tents on a field of blue. 
 
 The ruined castle rises to the view, 
 Like some old giant warden, peering far 
 
 Into the distant shades, while, glimmering through 
 His wind-blown mantle, faintly shines a star ; 
 And seemingly plumed knights in dusky coverts are. 
 
 III. 
 
 Whence came the Lady Marian none could tell ; 
 
 Of all the town no soul could name the day 
 When first she came to Heidelberg. Full well 
 
 They loved her gentle face and winning way. 
 
 Albeit there was that, as they would say, 
 About her mood and mien, and strange dark eyes. 
 
 Which made them fain believe her mind astray 
 Through love, or what not ; 'twould be overwise, 
 They said, to question that which no one could surmise. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 203 
 IV. 
 
 They knew she loved to wander at her will 
 
 About the castle halls, or sit for hours 
 Upon the balcony with lute, until 
 
 They called her the Pale Lady of the Towers. 
 An aged man who owned vast vintage bowers, 
 • Old Rupert named, alone of all the rest 
 
 She most esteemed, for he had brought her flowers 
 To wreathe her tresses, and made manifest 
 His sympathy for her, in many ways expressed. 
 
 The porter sprawled beside the castle stair, 
 
 And dreamed of lordly banquets, waving plumes, 
 The graceful tilt of lances 'thwart the air, 
 
 And knights in armor gliding through the rooms. 
 
 For much his senses were oppressed with fumes 
 Of rare old Burgundy and Rhenish wine, 
 
 So that he mumbled, in the cloistered glooms, 
 About a Black Knight of the Palatine, 
 And in his dreams unhorsed some champion of the Rhine. 
 
204 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Upon this night old Rupert past him slips, 
 By empty niche and moss-grown flag, alone, 
 
 And glides, with cautious finger on his lips. 
 
 Through gloomy labyrinths that scarce are known, 
 And up broad steps of deftly chiseled stone, 
 
 Unto a door arched o'er with figures quaint, 
 
 Through which the warm light tremulously shone, 
 
 And ventured in, with timid step and faint. 
 Past carven prince and priest, and many a statued saint. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Beside an oriel window, where the moon 
 
 Aflame hath set a shield and silver lance. 
 Pale Marian sings, and weaves to tinkling tune 
 
 Of lute, some madrigal of old romance. 
 
 The pendent lamplight doth the eye entrance 
 With violet broiderie, and argent fold 
 
 Of arabesque, and nymphs that eye askance 
 Their marble limbs ; with armor quaint and old 
 Upon the oaken walls, and banners fringed with gold. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 205 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Aloft, droop broken crests with figures grim ; 
 
 And shields, that once were bossed with jewels 
 bright, 
 Now red with rust, slant from the arches dim. 
 
 To tell of sieges, wars, and many a fight 
 
 In tournament. For these did cheer the sight . 
 Of gentle Marian, whose wandering mind 
 
 In every shadow saw a noble knight ; 
 And so old Rupert, happening to find 
 The place, had filled it with antiques of every kind. 
 
 IX. 
 
 And to this hall, that scarce a soul had known 
 To be in Castle Heidelberg, he took 
 
 The Lady Marian ; and blithely shone 
 
 Her weary face, though still the far-off look 
 Nor once her fascinating eyes forsook. 
 
 And here, with mind so sadly overcast, 
 
 She dwelt, and fancied every niche and nook 
 
 Enchanted with a glory of the past. 
 While to her gladdened gaze brave legions crowded fast. 
 
206 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 X. 
 
 Now doth her spoken name resolve the spell. 
 
 She lays aside the lute, and courtesies low, 
 With old-time manner that she wore so well, 
 
 And welcomes Rupert with the seeming show 
 
 Of quaint civility and mien, as though 
 He were some cavalier of ancient days. 
 
 Home from crusade against a Paynim foe ; 
 While awkwardly an homage he essays. 
 As would beseem a knight, to win his lady's praise. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Upon a table, wreathed with tasseled fringe, 
 That held a fruited basket, and the floss 
 
 Of delicate embroidery, with tinge 
 
 Of color bright that shot its threads across. 
 He placed some fragrant flowers and mountain 
 moss ; 
 
 Then, by the window, in a rustic seat 
 
 Ensconced, addressed her : " Lady of the Schloss, 
 
 When last we did within this castle meet. 
 The story of thy life thou said'st thou would'st repeat. " 
 
7'HE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 207 
 XII. 
 
 She ran, and from her couch a cushion brought, 
 All richly wove with emblems quaint and old. 
 
 The moon had now her tangled tresses caught, 
 And through its silver fingers dropped the gold, 
 And purpled soft the curtains' fret and fold. 
 
 And near him sitting, on that summer night, 
 With lifted face, a story strange she told ; 
 
 And much he marveled, in the glimmering light, 
 The while she seemed so pale and ghost-like to his sight : 
 
 XIII. 
 
 * ' Hast thou forgot the many weary days 
 
 Of tumult — how our soldiers sprang to arms. 
 And manned the ramparts of this guarded place, 
 
 To wait the foe, at war's first dread alarms ? 
 
 When happy homes were stripped of hallowed 
 charms. 
 And death and famine brooded o'er the land ; 
 
 When fanes and cloisters, villages and farms, 
 Were all made desolate by blade and brand — 
 That curse which prayerful souls could never understand ? 
 
208 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 '' They called me mad — and some did shake the head, 
 And wise did look, and fold their arms, amazed. 
 
 They lived to rue the cruel words they said, 
 When courtly halls were to the pavement razed, 
 And death came full and sudden while they gazed. 
 
 But this I knew, and prophesied the war ; 
 
 And from yon tower I saw the flames that blazed, 
 
 And heard the shrieks, and felt the heavy jar 
 Of cannon, thundering from the mountain heights afar. 
 
 XV. 
 
 **Too long was that fell siege the cause of woe ; 
 
 Too long were crime and cruelty a game ; 
 Too oft did vandals strike our altars low, 
 
 And, by the craven right of might, defame. 
 
 Enough — we sacrificed our rightful claim ; 
 The foeman triumphed in our land of song ; 
 
 Our banners bright were lowered, to our shame, 
 And beaten down ; but, with resentment strong, 
 Within our breasts we swore swift vengeance for the wrong. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 209 
 
 XVI. 
 
 "By secret passage to the mountain side — 
 A subterranean pass by Romans cleft 
 
 In ancient time, beyond the Neckar's tide — 
 In stealthy haste these castle halls we left, 
 Weak and distressed, but not of hope bereft. 
 
 All night the cautious tread of mail-clad men, 
 Of knightly warriors, famed; of exploits deft, 
 
 Was heard, until the morning's sun again 
 Beheld us refugees in mountain pass and glen. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 * ' The Palsgrave, Count of the Palatinate, 
 The ruler of the court, whom all revered, 
 
 Had, in the night, by some untoward fate. 
 Beyond the castle outworks disappeared, 
 While bravely fighting at the front. We feared 
 
 His death or capture, and were sore dismayed — 
 For he had to us all become endeared 
 
 By character heroic, such as made 
 Him feared of foes alike who met him blade to blade. 
 
2IO CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 XVIII. 
 "Beneath the very shadows of the saints, 
 
 That rose in ranks above them, many a fane 
 They razed, destroying precious monuments 
 Of heroes in the border battles slain. 
 But never questioned they, by word profane, 
 The Palsgrave's valor with a taunting tongue. 
 
 First in the legion of a mighty train 
 Of sovereign knights, long will his fame be sung, 
 Though harps are hushed in halls where once his banners 
 hung. 
 
 *'I hold not time, nor can I tell the change 
 That followed in a day or month or year ; 
 
 I know that oftentimes there com.es a strange 
 And fitful memory of days of fear, 
 Of scenes that left their cruel impress here. 
 
 Again laid waste were cherished fields and bowers ; 
 Again war's tumult crashed upon the ear ; 
 
 Again our banners plumed the castle towers ; 
 The citadel was won, and Heidelberg was ours ! 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 211 
 XX. 
 
 " Then followed days entranced, with dreamy hush 
 Of peace, and populous of birds and bees ; 
 
 When skies were blue, and meadows 'neath them 
 lush 
 Of fruitfulness, and ev'ry soothing breeze 
 Was laden with the cool of summer seas ; 
 
 The windows, open wide, were budded o'er 
 
 With tangled bloom of woodbine and sweet peas ; 
 
 The hound lay dozing on the sunlit floor. 
 And sweetly sang the thrush beside the open door. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " 'Twas when the violets first twinkled through 
 
 The brake, and brooks were tremulous with song ; 
 When multitudes of rainbowed insects flew 
 About the fragrant hedges, and a throng 
 Around the dove-cots flew with pinion strong, 
 That, from the parapet, the warden spied, 
 
 One morning fair, a troop of horse, along 
 The greenwood glade below the mountain side. 
 In panoply of steel beyond the Neckar's tide. 
 
212 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 ''Waved then the banners bright on tower and port, 
 
 The high portcullis glanced its iron guard, 
 The drawbridge chains were loosed in castle court, 
 
 And speedily the portals were unbarred ; 
 
 While, from the ramparts of the upper ward, 
 The salvo-gun of welcome thrilled the air ; 
 
 Bent were the pennons in the castle yard, 
 As Baron Ludwig reined his charger there, 
 With twenty yeomen brave his equipage to bear. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 *' He brought no tidings of the missing lord, 
 
 Though wide his search by distant moor and main: 
 'Was drowned,' said some, 'while fighting at the 
 ford ; ' 
 And others — 'Buried on the batde plain. 
 When thrice outnumbered, overpowered, and 
 slain.' 
 Boasts Germany one hero of his line ? 
 
 What deeds were his would bless a monarch's 
 reign, 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 213 
 
 And bright upon historic pages shine, 
 Though dimmed the olden light that charmed the Pala- 
 tine ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 *''Twas on a sunny day in June ; across 
 The stream and up the mountain avenue, 
 
 Where Gothic rocks, o'ermantled with the moss, 
 From lofty battlements deep shadows threw, 
 We paced our coursers in the morning dew ; 
 
 The squirrel, haunched amid the glistening leaves, 
 Ran up the oak ; a startled pheasant flew, 
 
 A sunset streak, across the path, and reeves 
 Piped in the underbrake, and nestled in the sheaves. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " We halted 'neath a portalled arch of stone. 
 Where brave St. Michael's Convent lifts its walls. 
 
 With Time's old ivy mantle o'er them thrown. 
 That, like a friar's cassock, lightly falls. 
 Tossed by the breeze ; our steeds in ancient stalls 
 
214 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Were tethered, and most bounteous the cheer 
 
 Afforded by the abbot in the halls 
 Made sacred to the brave dead lying here, 
 Above whose tombs the walls a noble fabric rear. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 **The sunlight slanted, through the casements high, 
 In crimson leaves across the polished pave ; 
 
 While many a banner waved its colors nigh, 
 Above carved cenotaph and marble nave. 
 With legend graven o'er each foot-worn grave. 
 
 Beyond, in shadow of the shrine, uprose 
 
 The monks to chant the requiem of the brave, 
 
 That underneath in blessed rest repose, 
 The while their ghosts repeat in echo at the close. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 ** It is not all to suffer as we do 
 
 By war or famine, hate or bitter jest ; 
 
 For there are seasons, calm as summers new. 
 When grief is stifled, memories repressed. 
 And joys caught up unto the burdened breast, 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 215 
 
 Like flowers whose sweetness lingers for a day. 
 
 So, on this morn, as happy as the rest, 
 Through golden hours, I banished care away. 
 With that content and joy which cheer a child at play. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 *' Unto a secret chamber of the tower. 
 Rich with memorials of Charlemagne, 
 
 With reminiscences of pomp and power, 
 Of days that were not wholly lived in vain, 
 Of men whose like we shall not see again. 
 
 E'en though the Palatine should hold its own. 
 The abbot led us, through the sacred fane. 
 
 And bade us gaze, as back a door was thrown 
 Upon a scene as strange as ever man hath known. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 ''Death's ghastly symbols filled the heart with dread, 
 And there was that which spake of hollow pride : 
 
 The broken scepter resting by the dead ; 
 
 The jeweled crown that glistened at its side ; 
 The rusted armor, that was open wide, 
 
2i6 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Through which, like gleaming phosphorescent lines, 
 
 A something terrible was quick descried ; 
 All these, the relics of the Palatines, 
 Brought back again the days of bloody battle-signs. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " No light of sun or moon within the room 
 Had ever flung a single cheering ray ; 
 
 The torches flashed a glow athwart the gloom 
 
 From precious gems, more brilliant than the spray 
 Of sparkling waters on a summer day. 
 
 Urns, overtopped with jewels brighter far 
 Than diadems that crown a monarch's sway. 
 
 Blazed like a sun, or glimmered like a star. 
 Or changed to rainbow hues at e'en the slightest jar. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 *' A chest of figured metal, rusted old, 
 A mocking shape disclosed, grotesque and grim. 
 
 Half buried under heaps of faded gold, 
 
 Half raised by fingers clutching hard the rim, 
 At last borne back into the shadows dim : 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 217 
 
 And there were battered shields of ancient wear, 
 
 And gleaming goblets, beaded to the brim, 
 With antique jewels, clustered here and there, 
 And diamonds flashing bright from caskets old and rare. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 "We were but three ; none other hath beheld 
 
 The treasure saved, when Tilly took the town ; 
 Here fled a few, by greed of gain impelled. 
 
 And bore in haste the jewels of the crown, 
 
 And rare memorials of old renown. 
 Here, by the secret pass, a league below, 
 
 Upon that night when, with our banners down, 
 The castle yielded to its cruel foe. 
 They came with stealthy step a weary time ago. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 *' They came and hid them here within the tower. 
 And kept their counsel ; for each breath that bore 
 
 The prayers to heaven, at morn and evening hour. 
 
 Of cowled friars, held their fate in store : 
 
 Inquisitorial pain and torture sore, 
 10 
 
21 8 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 By rack or wheel, were theirs had they been known. 
 
 But oh ! the fate they suffered — for the door 
 Was barred complete by fallen wall and stone, 
 In that most cruel war, ere many days had flown ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 ' ' They died a living death. The flowers have bloomed 
 Above their sepulcher for many a year ; 
 
 The lizard crept above them here entombed ; 
 But they were known not, nor did people hear 
 One shriek of pain, or moan of horrid fear. 
 
 The spider flung its bridge across the mold. 
 The ivy wove a pall above their bier. 
 
 And hawks of hooded eye have clutched their hold 
 In hunting season oft above this dungeon old. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 *'Upon our lips the abbot placed the seal 
 Of strictest secrecy ; no word was said 
 
 From that day unto this, for never weal 
 Could have ensued, were other mortal led 
 Unto this treasure-chamber of the dead. 
 
THE M YS TER Y OF HE ID ELDER G CAS TLE. 2 1 9 
 
 The ponderous door was swung, with hollow sound, 
 
 Upon its hinges, as we turned with dread. 
 
 And sought the sunlight and the open ground, 
 
 Where wave the grand old oaks with nature's jewels 
 
 crowned. 
 ******* 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 "The ruined abbey of my childhood's home ; 
 
 The glimpse of mountains ; streams that flash on 
 high, 
 Bounding from cliff to cliff in snowy foam, 
 
 And crushing past brave walls with maddened cry; 
 
 The starry host in triumph marching by, 
 With blazing banners, to the land of suns ; 
 
 The lightning, building steps unto the sky 
 With marvelous speed— such thrill the ones 
 Who dwell, as I have dwelt, by rock-ribbed garrisons ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 "And so about brave Heidelberg hath been 
 
 Quick impulse given to memory of days 
 Tinged with romance, that made my heart, akin 
 
220 . CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 To scenes of chivalry, and ever ways 
 Heroic won their meed of heart-felt praise. 
 
 The storm upon the mountains hath its song, 
 Whose ringing eloquence my spirit sways, 
 
 And war hath stamped its cruel impress strong 
 Upon my soul to urge the right against the wrong. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 ''How long, I care not ; many years have flown 
 Since, on that sunny morn, we bade adieu 
 
 To those old convent walls ; the weeds have grown 
 About the garden, and the pious few 
 Long since have passed away from mortal view. 
 
 And how the abbot died no records show. 
 And there are living those who never knew 
 
 The circumstance, or ever cared to know 
 The story of a time that seems so long ago. 
 
 5JC SJC 5jC 5|C 3|C 3(C 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " By some strange happening, suspicion fell 
 
 Of treasure stored in secret hiding-place 
 Beneath St. Michael's ancient penance cell 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 221 
 
 The rumor spread abroad, and flew apace, 
 And caused much gossip with the men of grace 
 
 About the abbot's penitential Hfe. 
 
 The Church was joined against the populace, 
 
 Engendering feuds, until such deeds were rife 
 As threatened to repeat the scenes of former strife. 
 
 XL. 
 
 ' ' But still the jewel chamber of the tower 
 Defied all quest, and so time wore away. 
 
 The summer came again with fruit and flower, 
 And seas of sunshine ; birds of plumage gay 
 Flashed in the pheasant-garden ; every day 
 
 Was weighed with indolence and drowsy dream ; 
 The cattle in the old oak's shadow lay 
 
 With half-shut lids, and all the earth did seem 
 To lie entranced beneath the hot sun's slanted beam. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 ' ' 'Twas on a day like these, the abbot, bent 
 On holy mission to the distant Rhine, 
 
 Toiled to the castle, up the steep ascent, 
 
 And, resting here, beneath the sheltering vine, 
 Partook our welcome cheer of food and wine. 
 
222 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 The noon air glimmered with the tropic heat ; 
 
 The locust shrilly, at its leafy shrine, 
 Hymned from the trees, and bees, with burden sweet, 
 Lingered about the flowers, and toiled with busy feet. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 "Before he left us on that summer noon, 
 He stood with lifted hands above the vale, 
 
 To bless the people, praying for the boon 
 Of sweet forgiveness for the grief and bale 
 Their foe had wrought by mountain and by dale. 
 
 He placed the convent key within my hand. 
 And bade me guard it as it were the Grail 
 
 Dropped in the passage of the angel band, 
 A trust that time would bring my heart to understand. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 "Along the edges of the mountain eaves 
 The faint air trembled with a muttering sound ; 
 
 A breeze sprang up and lightly caught the leaves, 
 And whirled them in the sunlight from the ground ; 
 The birds flew upward, twittering around 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 223 
 
 The aviar}', when the sky grew dark 
 
 With sudden cloud, the fretted waters frowned, 
 Chafing to dash the freighted barge and bark 
 Against the threatening rocks that crouched in shadows 
 stark. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 '* Far down the mountain path, I saw the form 
 
 Of the good abbot in the forest fade 
 Amid the racking fury of the storm. 
 
 We sought the keep ; below, the wooded glade 
 
 Quivered amain with sudden light and shade ; 
 While down in sheeted torrents crashed the rain ; 
 
 Madly the tempest mocked the prayers we said ; 
 The vivid lightning flashed across the pane ; 
 And echoes rose and fell, prolonged upon the plain. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 '"Twas after nightfall ere the flying clouds 
 Betokened peace ; across the moon they passed, 
 
 Like phantoms flitting by in baffled crowds, 
 Their white locks trailing in the raging blast. 
 The forest glades were in deep shadow cast. 
 
224 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 While down the slope the tumbling waters fell, 
 To mingle with the Neckar's flood ; — at last 
 The storm had ended, but no words can tell 
 The sorrow of that night, or aught its gloom dispel. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 "We sat within the castle's grand saloon, 
 
 The Baron Ludwig reading, at my side, 
 A quaint old legend of the wild Wolfsbrun, 
 When suddenly the doors were opened wide ; 
 Along the halls we heard the hasty stride 
 . Of men-at-arms ; then voices, as of fear ; 
 
 And in the dusky gloom was soon descried 
 A gleam of torches, and a shrouded bier 
 Borne through the corridor unto a chamber near. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 ** With reverent hand we raised the silken pall, 
 And gazed upon the form that rested there 
 
 Like some poor, weary soul asleep, and all 
 Life's burden lifted in the hush of prayer. 
 With ashen face the baron met the stare 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 225 
 
 Of all who heard his words impassionate, 
 As back he flung the cassock in the glare : 
 
 ' No abbot this,' he said, ' but one as great : 
 Behold the Palsgrave of the Court Palatinate! ' 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 *' He flung aside the cassock in the glare, 
 And bared ihe royal plait and golden brede. 
 
 Beneath the abbot's garb of priestly wear 
 We saw the noble form of one indeed 
 Who served the castle in its hour of need. 
 
 For, when the battle ended on that day. 
 And brave men lay by river and by mead, 
 
 The Palsgrave flung his broken blade away, 
 And hied to convent walls for blessed peace to pray." 
 ****** 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The lady ceased. The lamplght flickered faint. 
 Its bluish glare blent with the moonlight pale, 
 
 And, for the silence, statued priest and saint 
 Seemed to have listened to the wondrous tale. 
 And echoed judgment in a distant wail. 
 
 IG* 
 
226 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 Old Rupert gazed, expectant-eyed, across 
 
 The grand old battlements, as, from the vale, 
 To see brave banners in the moonlight toss. 
 And harqiiebuse and lance to flash beyond the fosse. 
 
 The good-night said, he left her at the porch, 
 While strange emotions thrilled his aged frame, 
 
 And still the porter, by neglected torch, 
 
 That, from its sconce, emitted scarce a flame, 
 Lay dreaming of brave deeds on fields of fame. 
 
 The echoed cry afar of watchful hound 
 
 Baying the moon upon the night air came, 
 
 The while grim sentinels seemed pacing round 
 The dark old castle heights with many a turret crowned. 
 
 Upon the morrow, in fair Marian's room. 
 
 At the first hush of twilight, Rupert stood, 
 And peered with shading palm into the gloom, 
 
 Disturbed in spirit, and of restless mood ; 
 
 While much he marveled at the solitude 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 227 
 
 That overhung the hall with shroud of shade. 
 
 But neither here nor there, seek where he would. 
 Was seen the Lady Marian, though he made 
 Long search about the halls, where oft her footsteps 
 strayed. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Then, faint at heart, good Rupert sought the town. 
 For aid the missing lady's steps to trace, 
 
 And, like brave cavaliers of old renown, 
 A host of men, within the briefest space. 
 By hall and corridor, did storm the place. 
 
 With blaze of torches in the arches weird. 
 For there was none but loved the gentle face 
 
 Of Lady Marian, and none but feared 
 'Twas by some woeful fate that she had disappeared, 
 
 LIII. 
 
 The night wore on, but not a trace was found 
 Of the pale lady, till a faint halloo 
 
 Within the far-off corridors did sound — 
 A cry that rang in distant echoes through 
 The vaulted halls, in summons to the hue 
 
228 CASTLE WINDOWS. 
 
 For those in search who wandered from the rest , 
 
 When thither hastened these, at once, unto 
 The tower that sentinels the portaled west. 
 Whose large and lofty rooms brave memories suggest. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 They stood beside a rounded court, whose hall 
 Had echoed to the sound of sword and shield, 
 
 In the dim ages of the past, and, all 
 
 Amazed, they gazed upon the si^^ht revealed 
 Through crumbling wall that hitherto concealed 
 
 An alcove carven in that massive stone, 
 Which unto well-directed blows did yield ; 
 
 When back they sprang aghast, and would have flown 
 But for the very fear their souls could not disown. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Was that prone shape, so marble in its stare. 
 The Lady Marian, so pure and truep 
 
 Lo ! as they gazed, it faded into air, 
 
 Bjcame as nothing, like the inorning dew 
 When hrealdng clouds have let the sunlight through. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE. 229 
 
 // changed to dust, its very substance Jied, 
 
 For there ^ at once, upon their wondering view 
 Of ages past^ a sudden light was shed, 
 That for a moment held the fabric of the dead ! 
 
* 
 
 
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