VII Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind, I turn from you, and listen to the wind, Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream Of agony by torture lengthened out That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav'st without, Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb, 'Tis of the rushing of an host in rout, With groans of trampled men, with smarting woundsAt once they groan with pain and shudder with the cold! But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence! And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, With groans, and tremulous shudderings-all is overIt tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud! A tale of less affright, And tempered with delight, As Otway's self had framed the tender lay. 'Tis of a little child, Upon a lonesome wild, Not far from home, but she hath lost her way; And now moans low in bitter grief and fear, And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear. VIII 'Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep: Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep! Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes. Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice; To her may all things live, from pole to pole, 422 ROBERT SOUTHEY [1774-1843] AFTER BLENHEIM It was a summer evening, She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round. Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "'Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory. 'I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men,' said he, 'Were slain in that great victory.' 'Now tell us what 'twas all about,' Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; 'Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.' 'It was the English,' Kaspar cried, 'My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly: So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. 'With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then And newborn baby died: But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory. 'They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun: But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. 'Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won 'Why 'twas a very wicked thing!' *Nay .. nay my little girl,' quoth he, 'It was a famous victory. 'And every body praised the Duke 'But what good came of it at last?' Why that I cannot tell,' said he, 423 THE SCHOLAR My days among the Dead are past; Where'er these casual eyes are cast, My never-failing friends are they, With them I take delight in weal And while I understand and feel My cheeks have often been bedew'd My thoughts are with the Dead; with them Their virtues love, their faults condemn, Partake their hopes and fears, And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with an humble mind. My hopes are with the Dead; anon My place with them will be, Through all Futurity; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, 424 CHARLES LAMB [1775-1834] THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions I have been laughing, I have been carousing, I loved a Love once, fairest among women: I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man: Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood, Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, How some they have died, and some they have left me, |