Maud And many a darkness into the light shall leap, And shine in the sudden making of splendid wow dowdes

names,

And noble thought be freer under the sun, Midd
And the heart of a people beat with one desire;
For the peace, that I deem'd no peace,
is over
and done,

And

nd now by the side of the Black and the Baltic deep,

And deathful-grinning mouths of the fortress,

flames

The blood-red blossom of war with a heart of fire,

sib Noods sawaib-door lepitotayá klo and")

yam b'xim bin Mosh mig s no boots I

Let it flame or fade, and the war roll down like sorb si wa I T

We have proved we

are noble still,

And myself have awaked, as it seems, to the better mind;

די

It is better to fight for the good than to rail at
blog the ill; od obuil a 10% 18ol and wda bosi, a
I have felt with my native land, I am one with
my kind,
I embrace the purpose of God, and the doom
shan assign'd med art of 910m sono list bab
I'llonou

amsde

HWOD VER

THE BROOK;

AN IDYL

HERE, by this brook, we parted; I to the The Brook

East

And he for Italy-too late too late :

One whom the strong sons of the world despise ;
For lucky rhymes to him were scrip and share,
And mellow metres more than cent for cent;
Nor could he understand how money breeds,
Thought it a dead thing; yet himself could

make

The thing that is not as the thing that is.

O had he lived! In our schoolbooks we say,
Of those that held their heads above the crowd,
They flourish'd then or then; but life in him
Could scarce be said to flourish, only touch'd
On such a time as goes before the leaf,

When all the wood stands in a mist of green,
And nothing perfect: yet the brook he loved,
For which, in branding summers of Bengal,
Or ev❜n the sweet half-English Neilgherry air
I panted, seems, as I re-listen to it,

Prattling the primrose fancies of the boy,

To me that loved him; for "O brook," he

says,

"O babbling brook," says Edmund in his rhyme, "Whence come you?" and the brook, why not? replies.

The Brook

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,

And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.

door& adT silt of Till last by Philip's farm I flow

To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,

But I go on for ever. -yist noted buA Seigast blow d to 2008 gets ɔdt mode sa0 Poor lad, he died at Florence, quite worn out, Travelling to Naples. There is Darnley bridge, It has more ivy; there the river; and there Stands Philip's farm where brook and river

meet.

ways,

dult-edt as to ai tedt yaidt sd'F
bovil od bed O
I chatter over oth
ebwors of In little sharps and trebles, and sood: 10
min bubble into eddying bays, b'dehwol yedT
b'dousy I babble
babble on the pebbles. ad sonsor bino

With many a curve my banks I fret dous 10
By many a field and fallow, de Deus W

bovol And many a fairy foreland set

Ingas With willow-weed

VII chatter, ch

and mallow.

chatter, chatter, as I flow we od o ́ys 10 To join the brimming river,1992 batang I For men may come and men may go,ilmm'T But I go on for ever. bavol and am oT

of But Philip chatter'd more than brook or

val bird;

sit bos Swoy, ames 9omsdW Old Philip; all about the fields you caught

His weary daylong chirping, like the dry th The Brook
High-elbow'd grigs that leap in summer grass.

I wind about, and in and out, mos botteld o
Govon s.With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,

And here and there a grayling,

And here and there a foamy flakelge denn
Upon me, as I travel

With many a silvery waterbreak

Above the golden gravel.

500 207290 9354

And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,

For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.

"O darling Katie Willows, his one child!
A maiden of our century, yet most meek;
A daughter of our meadows, yet not coarse;
Straight, but as lissome as a hazel wand;
Her eyes a bashful azure, and her hair
In gloss and hue the chestnut, when the shell
Divides threefold to show the fruit within.

'Sweet Katie, once I did her a good turn,
Her and her far-off cousin and betrothed,
James Willows, of one name and heart with her.
For here I came, twenty years back the week
Before I parted with poor Edmund; crost Bion U
By that old bridge which, half in ruins then,
Still makes a hoary eyebrow for the gleams of
Beyond it, where the waters marry-crost,
Whistling a random bar of Bonny Doon,
And push'd at Philip's garden-gate. The gate,

The Brook Half-parted from a weak and scolding hinge, and the clamour'd from a casement,

Stuck;

❝ run

To Katie somewhere in the walks below,
"Run, Katie !" Katie never ran: she moved
To meet me, winding under woodbine bowers,
A little flutter'd, with her eyelids down,
Fresh apple blossom, blushing for a boon.

6 What was it? less of sentiment than sense
Had Katie; not illiterate; neither one
Who dabbling in the fount of fictive tears,
And nursed by mealy-mouth'd philanthropies,
Divorce the Feeling from her mate the Deed.

told me. She and James had quarrell'd.

What cause of quarrel? None, she said, no

cause;

James had no cause: but when I prest the cause,
I learnt that James had flickering jealousies
Which anger'd her. Who anger'd James?

I said. But Katie snatch'd her eyes at once from hib. I sumo ohs 2 towa

.mine,

And sketching with her slender-pointed foot
Some figure like a wizard's pentagram
On garden gravel, let my query pass
Unclaim'd, in flushing silence, till I ask'drolo
If James were coming.dos Coming every day,"
She answer'd, "ever longing to explain,
But evermore her father came across ban
With some long-winded tale, and broke him
short; 91
meny bad.