And why thy
mournful
voice?
Victor Hugo - Poems
I only know he is not here.
Good dog! thou watchest; yet no hand
Will feed thee. In the house is none.
Whom weepest thou? child! My father. And
O wife! whom weepest thou? The Gone.
Where is he gone? Into the dark. --
O sad, and ever-plaining surge!
Whence art thou? From the convict-bark.
And why thy mournful voice? A dirge.
EDWIN ARNOLD, C. S. I.
NO ASSASSINATION.
_("Laissons le glaive a Rome. ")_
[Bk. III. xvi. , October, 1852. ]
Pray Rome put up her poniard!
And Sparta sheathe the sword;
Be none too prompt to punish,
And cast indignant word!
Bear back your spectral Brutus
From robber Bonaparte;
Time rarely will refute us
Who doom the hateful heart.
Ye shall be o'ercontented,
My banished mates from home,
But be no rashness vented
Ere time for joy shall come.
No crime can outspeed Justice,
Who, resting, seems delayed--
Full faith accord the angel
Who points the patient blade.
