XXV. My First, that was so fresh and fair, And round that virgin heart of thine Roses are springing on thy clay; And there my Whole, obscurely bright, Still shows his little lamp by night, And hides it still by day. Aptly it decks that cypress bower, XXVI. WHEN my First flings down o'er tower and town When the tempests sweep o'er the angry deep And the gaunt wolves howl to the answering owl My Second will come to his ancient home From his dark and narrow bed; His warrior heel is cased in steel, Through battle and blast his bark had past, O'er many a stormy tide; He had burst in twain the tyrant's chain, He had won the beauteous bride; From the field of fame unscathed he came, (1827.) XXVII. UP, up, Lord Raymond, to the fight! And see thy javelin's point be bright, For over the hill and over the vale No craven be! yet beaten back He smote the Monarch in his lair, At dawn and dusk my Whole goes forth He looks to the south, he looks to the north, But many a cheerless moon must wane, XXVIII. MORNING is beaming o'er brake and bower, Lo! where my Second, in gallant array, With an arching neck, and a glancing eye. Spread is the banquet, and studied the song; Ranged in meet order the menial throng, Jerome is ready with book and stole, And the maidens fling flowers, but where is my Whole? Look to the hill, is he climbing its side? Larly, forget him, yea, scorn and forget. XXIX. My First was dark o'er earth and air, The stars that gemmed her ebon hair "Away, King Cole!" mine hostess said; "Flagon and flask are dry; Your nag is neighing in the shed, For he knows a storm is nigh:" She set my Second on his head, He stood upright upon his legs; He drained the draught to the very dregs, And he called that draught-my Whole. |