Verses and Rhymes By the Way Part 14

"I'd like to see them marching, To feast them with mirth and glee; When laid in my grave so early, They'll think kindly thoughts of me."

"My daughter, of all my treasures, The loveliest and the best; I know that my king so gracious, Will grant you your last request."

With banners and martial music, With drum-beat and trumpet-blare, They all marched to Anhalt Bernberg, To the palace court-yard there.

With all martial pomp and clangour, Were the salutations made, Where, supported at the window, The dying one was laid.

And tables were spread to feast them, With plenty that made them groan, But away by the Saale river, Old Leopold wept alone.

Leopold of Anhalt Dessau, He has reached three score and ten; They think it time he step aside, Giving place to younger men.

For old fashioned are his tactics, And old fashioned too is he, And a new king has arisen, And new counsellors there be.

Still the old man leads the army, But he gets no word of cheer; For the young king is impatient, And the courtiers laugh and jeer.

The troops are drawn up for battle, For the long expected fight; "'Tis my last," said Anhalt Dessau, "May our G.o.d defend the right!"

He stood among the veterans, Whom he had so often led; And, according to his custom, He uncovered his grey head.

"We are going into battle; How many shall come away Is known to the G.o.d of armies, Who shall lead us through this day.

"For we have come here to conquer, As we conquered everywhere; Uncover, my lads, and ask for The help that we need, in prayer.

"O G.o.d, who through life hast led me, Help me still, this once I pray; Nor let the shame of first defeat, Come now when my head is grey!

"Be thou present with our army, Do Thou let Thy might decide; But oh! if Thou be not with us, Be not on the other side.

"But leave it to drill and manhood, Amen. In G.o.d's name come on."

So Leopold Anhalt Dessau, His last battle fought and won.

And the King rescued from danger, By the victory that day, Lighted from his horse to greet him, Clad in his roquelaure grey

Bowed low to him as a master In all the warrior's art, And then, as a friend in greeting, Pressed the hero to his heart

Now his sword rests in the scabbard, He has done for aye with war, For Leopold Anhalt Dessau, Now sleeps with the sons of Thor.

MARY'S DEATH

Mary, ah me! gentle Mary, Can it be you're lying there, Pale and still, and cold as marble, You that was so young and fair.

Seemeth it as yestereven, When the golden autumn smiled, On our meeting, gentle Mary, You were then a very child.

Busy fingers, flitting footsteps, Never resting all day long; Shy and bashful, and the sweet voice Ever breaking into song

Always gentle, kind and thoughtful, Blameless and so free from art, 'Twas no wonder one so lovely Found a place within my heart.

You, while life was in its spring time, Made the Scripture Mary's choice; Jesus saw you, loved you, called you, And you listened to His voice.

Ever patient and rejoicing, Shielded thus from unseen harm; On you journeyed, safely leaning On an everlasting arm.

Three short years have not yet pa.s.sed us Flitting rapidly away, Since we shared in the rejoicing On your happy bridal day.

He, the lover of your childhood, Won a bride both good and fair; Three short years have not yet pa.s.sed us, Mary dear--and now you're there.

Well may he grow sick with weeping, And with sore heart mourn his loss; Sadly look on those two babies, Left so early motherless.

Not for thee we weep, my darling, An eternal gain is thine; We weep because we dearly loved thee, And for those you left behind.

TO ISABEL.

I often thought to write to thee, what time I almost fancied heaven-born, genius mine, And fondly hoped my island harp to wake, To some new strain sung for my country's sake.

'Twas a vain hope and yet its presence smiled Upon my day dreams when I was a child, And only faded when my heart grew cold, For head and heart alike are getting old.

Had I been gifted, some bright lay would be, With touching melody, poured forth for thee.

Now, what I think the best I wish for thee.

May you never be a stranger; Ever living with your own, With the same eyes beaming round you, That on your childhood shone.

Friendship knitting true hearts to you, From youth to kindly age; And affection brightening, gladdening Your pleasant heritage.

Yet not wishing to live always, Or shrinking back afraid, When you come--as come we all must And pa.s.s over to the dead.

With a hope then firmly anch.o.r.ed, Of a living faith possessed, Pa.s.sing from among your kindred Into everlasting rest.

LINES ON ANNEXATION.

We honour Brother Jonathan, For what he has done and dared; n.o.bly and firmly he hath stood His freeborn rights to guard.

And when we see him, go ahead, We are not with envy vexed; We wish him all prosperity Yet will not be annexed.

We know he has much moral force; Much that is good and great; Much enterprise and energy, Which we would imitate.

But there's upon his scutcheon stains, Which we lament to see; And will not share--will not annex-- Our soil and air are free--