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Where they tell me that the view of the ocean deep and blue;

Is remarkable extensive; and it's there you'll have to stay。'



So Napoleon wiped his eye; and he wished the Prince good…bye;

And being stony…broke; made the best of it he could;

And they kept him snugly pensioned; where his Royal Highness

mentioned;

And Napoleon Boneyparty is provided for for good。



Now of that I don't complain; but I ask and ask in vain;

Why me; a British soldier; as has lost a useful arm

Through fighting of the foe; when the trumpets ceased to blow;

Should be forced to feed the pigs on a little Surrey farm;



While him as fought with us; and created such a fuss;

And in the whole of Europe did a mighty deal of harm;

Should be kept upon a rock; like a precious fighting cock;

And be found in beer and baccy; which would suit me to a charm?







DEATH AT THE WINDOW







This morning; while we sat in talk

Of spring and apple…bloom;

Lo!  Death stood in the garden walk;

And peered into the room。



Your back was turned; you did not see

The shadow that he made。

He bent his head and looked at me;

It made my soul afraid。



The words I had begun to speak

Fell broken in the air。

You saw the pallor of my cheek;

And turnedbut none was there。



He came as sudden as a thought;

And so departed too。

What made him leave his task unwrought?

It was the sight of you。



Though Death but seldom turns aside

From those he means to take;

He would not yet our hearts divide;

For love and pity's sake。







MAKE…BELIEVES







When I was young and well and glad;

I used to play at being sad;

Now youth and health are fled away;

At being glad I sometimes play。







A COINCIDENCE







Every critic in the town

Runs the minor poet down;

Every criticdon't you know it?

Is himself a minor poet。







ART'S DISCIPLINE







Long since I came into the school of Art;

A child in works; but not a child in heart。

Slowly I learn; by her instruction mild;

To be in works a man; in heart a child。







THE TRUE LIBERAL







The truest Liberal is he

Who sees the man in each degree;

Who merit in a churl can prize;

And baseness in an earl despise;

Yet censures baseness in a churl;

And dares find merit in an earl。







A LATE GOOD NIGHT







My lamp is out; my task is done;

And up the stair with lingering feet

I climb。  The staircase clock strikes one。

Good night; my love! good night; my sweet!



My solitary room I gain。

A single star makes incomplete

The blackness of the window pane。

Good night; my love! good night; my sweet!



Dim and more dim its sparkle grows;

And ere my head the pillows meet;

My lids are fain themselves to close。

Good night; my love! good night; my sweet!



My lips no other words can say;

But still they murmur and repeat

To you; who slumber far away;

Good night; my love! good night; my sweet!







AN EXILE'S SONG







My soul is like a prisoned lark;

That sings and dreams of liberty;

The nights are long; the days are dark;

Away from home; away from thee!



My only joy is in my dreams;

When I thy loving face can see。

How dreary the awakening seems;

Away from home; away from thee!



At dawn I hasten to the shore;

To gaze across the sparkling sea …

The sea is bright to me no more;

Which parts me from my home and thee。



At twilight; when the air grows chill;

And cold and leaden is the sea;

My tears like bitter dews distil;

Away from home; away from thee。



I could not live; did I not know

That thou art ever true to me;

I could not bear a doubtful woe;

Away from home; away from thee。



I could not live; did I not hear

A voice that sings the day to be;

When hitherward a ship shall steer;

To bear me back to home and thee。



Oh; when at last that day shall break

In sunshine on the dancing sea;

It will be brighter for the sake

Of my return to home and thee!







FOR SCOTLAND







Beyond the Cheviots and the Tweed;

Beyond the Firth of Forth;

My memory returns at speed

To Scotland and the North。



For still I keep; and ever shall;

A warm place in my heart for Scotland;

Scotland; Scotland;

A warm place in my heart for Scotland。



Oh; cruel off St。 Andrew's Bay

The winds are wont to blow!

They either rest or gently play;

When there in dreams I go。



And there I wander; young again;

With limbs that do not tire;

Along the coast to Kittock's Den;

With whinbloom all afire。



I climb the Spindle Rock; and lie

And take my doubtful ease;

Between the ocean and the sky;

Derided by the breeze。



Where coloured mushrooms thickly grow;

Like flowers of brittle stalk;

To haunted Magus Muir I go;

By Lady Catherine's Walk。



In dreams the year I linger through;

In that familiar town;

Where all the youth I ever knew;

Burned up and flickered down。



There's not a rock that fronts the sea;

There's not an inland grove;

But has a tale to tell to me

Of friendship or of love。



And so I keep; and ever shall;

The best place in my heart for Scotland;

Scotland; Scotland;

The best place in my heart for Scotland!







THE HAUNTED CHAMBER







Life is a house where many chambers be;

And all the doors will yield to him who tries;

Save one; whereof men say; behind it lies

The haunting secret。  He who keeps the key;



Keeps it securely; smiles perchance to see

The eager hands stretched out to clutch the prize;

Or looks with pity in the yearning eyes;

And is half moved to let the secret free。



And truly some at every hour pass through;

Pass through; and tread upon that solemn floor;

Yet come not back to tell what they have found。

We will not importune; as others do;

With tears and cries; the keeper of the door;

But wait till our appointed hour comes round。







NIGHTFALL







Let me sleep。  The day is past;

And the folded shadows keep

Weary mortals safe and fast。

Let me sleep。



I am all too tired to weep

For the sunlight of the Past

Sunk within the drowning deep。



Treasured vanities I cast

In an unregarded heap。

Time has given rest at last。

Let me sleep。







IN TIME OF SICKNESS







Lost Youth; come back again!

Laugh at weariness and pain。

Come not in dreams; but come in truth;

Lost Youth。



Sweetheart of long ago;

Why do you haunt me so?

Were you not glad to part;

Sweetheart?



Still Death; that draws so near;

Is it hope you bring; or fear?

Is it only ease of breath;

Still Death?







Footnotes:



{1}  Mr。 Butler lectures on Physics; or; as it is called in

Scotland; Natural Philosophy。











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