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1798.
THE KNIGHT'S TOMB
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?-- By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, And whistled and roar'd in the winter alone, Is gone,--and the birch in its stead is grown.-- The Knight's bones are dust, And his good sword rust;-- His soul is with the saints, I trust.
? 1817.
FIRE, FAMINE, AND SLAUGHTER
A WAR ECLOGUE
_The Scene a desolated Tract in La Vendee. _FAMINE_ _is discovered lying on the ground; to her enter_ FIRE _and_ SLAUGHTER.
_Fam._ Sisters! sisters! who sent you here?
_Slau._ [to Fire]. I will whisper it in her ear.
_Fire._ No! no! no!
Spirits hear what spirits tell: 'Twill make an holiday in h.e.l.l.
No! no! no!
Myself, I named him once below, And all the souls, that d.a.m.ned be, Leaped up at once in anarchy, Clapped their hands and danced for glee.
They no longer heeded me; But laughed to hear h.e.l.l's burning rafters Unwillingly re-echo laughters!
No! no! no!
Spirits hear what spirits tell: 'Twill make an holiday in h.e.l.l!
_Fam._ Whisper it, sister! so and so!
In the dark hint, soft and slow.
_Slau._ Letters four do form his name- And who sent you?
_Both._ The same! the same!
_Slau._ He came by stealth, and unlocked my den, And I have drunk the blood since then Of thrice three hundred thousand men.
_Both._ Who bade you do't?
_Slau._ The same! the same!
Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.
_Fam._ Thanks, sister, thanks! the men have bled, Their wives and their children faint for bread.
I stood in a swampy field of battle; With bones and skulls I made a rattle, To frighten the wolf and carrion-crow And the homeless dog--but they would not go.
So off I flew: for how could I bear To see them gorge their dainty fare?
I heard a groan and a peevish squall, And through the c.h.i.n.k of a cottage-wall-- Can you guess what I saw there?
_Both_. Whisper it, sister! in our ear.
_Fam_. A baby beat its dying mother: I had starved the one and was starving the other!
_Both_. Who bade you do't?
_Fam_. The same! the same!
Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.
_Fire_. Sisters! I from Ireland came!
Hedge and corn-fields all on flame, I triumph'd o'er the setting sun!
And all the while the work was done, On as I strode with my huge strides, I flung back my head and I held my sides, It was so rare a piece of fun To see the sweltered cattle run With uncouth gallop through the night, Scared by the red and noisy light!
By the light of his own blazing cot Was many a naked Rebel shot: The house-stream met the flame and hissed, While crash! fell in the roof, I wist, On some of those old bed-rid nurses, That deal in discontent and curses.
_Both._ Who bade you do't?
_Fire._ The same! the same!
Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.
_All._ He let us loose, and cried Halloo!
How shall we yield him honour due?
_Fam._ Wisdom comes with lack of food.
I'll gnaw, I'll gnaw the mult.i.tude, Till the cup of rage o'erbrim: They shall seize him and his brood--
_Slau._ They shall tear him limb from limb!
_Fire._ O thankless beldames and untrue!
And is this all that you can do For him, who did so much for you?
Ninety months he, by my troth!
Hath richly catered for you both; And in an hour would you repay An eight years' work?--Away! away!
I alone am faithful! I Cling to him everlastingly.
1797.
THE TWO ROUND s.p.a.cES ON THE TOMBSTONE