No More Learning

THEN, MOST, I SMILE.

_("Il est un peu tard. ")_

[Bk. III. xxx. , Oct. 30, 1854. ]


Late it is to look so proud,
Daisy queen! come is the gloom
Of the winter-burdened cloud! --
"But, in winter, most I bloom! "

Star of even! sunk the sun!
Lost for e'er the ruddy line;
And the earth is veiled in dun,--
"Nay, in darkness, best I shine! "

O, my soul! art 'bove alarm,
Quaffing thus the cup of gall--
Canst thou face the grave with calm?
--
"Yes, the Christians smile at all. "





THE EXILE'S DESIRE.

_("Si je pouvais voir, O patrie! ")_

[Bk. III. xxxvii. ]


Would I could see you, native land,
Where lilacs and the almond stand
Behind fields flowering to the strand--
But no!

Can I--oh, father, mother, crave
Another final blessing save
To rest my head upon your grave? --
But no!

In the one pit where ye repose,
Would I could tell of France's woes,
My brethren, who fell facing foes--
But no!

Would I had--oh, my dove of light,
After whose flight came ceaseless night,
One plume to clasp so purely white. --
But no!

Far from ye all--oh, dead, bewailed!
The fog-bell deafens me empaled
Upon this rock--I feel enjailed--
Though free.

Like one who watches at the gate
Lest some shall 'scape the doomed strait.
I watch!