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Thou noble thing ! more dances my rapt heart Few are the hearts that have proved the truth
my threshold. Why, thou Mars ! I tell And let those few, the beloved of youth,
Be dear in their absence now. We have a power on foot; and I had purpose O, vividly in their faithful breast Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, Shall the gleam of remembrance play, Or lose mine arm for 't. Thou hast beat me out Like the lingering light of the crimson west, Twelve several times, and I have nightly since When the sunbeam hath passed away! Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me, We have been down together in my sleep,
Soft be the sleep of their pleasant hours, Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
And calm be the seas they roam ! And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy May the way they travel be strewed with flowers Marcius,
Till it bring them in safety home! Had we no other quarrel else to Rome, but that And when we whose hearts are o'erflowing thus Thou art thence banished, we would muster all
Ourselves may be doomed to stray, From twelve to seventy; and, pouring war
May some kind orison rise for us,
When we shall be far away!
THE MEETING OF THE SHIPS.
“ We take each other by the hand, and we exchange a few A thousand welcomes! words and looks of kindness, and we rejoice together for a few
short moments; and then days, inonths, years intervene, and we And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
see and know nothing of each other." - WASHINGTOX IRVING. Yet, Marcius, that was much.
Two baiks met on the deep mid-sea,
When calms had stilled the tide ;
A few bright days of summer glee WHEN TO THE SESSIONS OF SWEET There found them side by side. SILENT THOUGHT.
And voices of the fair and brave
Rose mingling thence in mirth; When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
And sweetly floated o'er the wave
The melodies of earth.
Moonlight on that lone Indian main
Cloudless and lovely slept ; Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
While dancing step and festive strain For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
Each deck in triumph swept. And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe, And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight. And hands were linked, and answering eyes Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
With kindly meaning shone ; And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
O, brief and passing sympathies,
Like leaves together blown !
Over the deep's repose,
Like trumpet music rose.
FRIENDS FAR AWAY.
And proudly, freely on their way
The parting vessels bore ;
To meet – 0, nevermore !
Count not the hours while their silent wings
Thus waft them in fairy flight;
Shall hallow the scene to-night.
And the colors of life are gay,
The Friends who are far away.
Never to blend in victory's cheer,
To aid in hours of woe ;
Such ties are formed below.
S. T. COLERIDGE.
THE QUARREL OF FRIENDS.
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
And sell the mighty space of our large honors CHRISTABEL."
For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, ALAS ! they had been friends in youth:
Than such a Roman. But whispering tongues can poison truth;
Brutus, bay not me, And constancy lives in realms above ;
I'll not endure it : you forget yourself, And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ;
To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I, And to be wroth with one we love
Older in practice, abler than yourself Doth work like madness in the brain.
To make conditions. And thus it chanced, as I divine,
Go to ; you are not, Cassic.. With Roland and Sir Leoline !
Cas. I am. Each spoke words of high disdain
Bru. I say you are not. And insult to his heart's best brother ;
Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself: They parted, -- ne'er to meet again !
Have mind upon your health; tempt menofurther. But never either found another
Bru. Away, slight man ! To free the hollow heart from paining.
Cas. Is't possible? They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Hear me, for I will speak. Like cliffs which had been rent asunder;
Must I give way and room to your rash choler ? A dreary sea now flows between,
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ? But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder
Cas. O ye gods ! ye gods ! Must I endure all Shall wholly do away, I ween,
this? The marks of that which once hath been.
BRU. All this ? ay, more : Fret, till your proud
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch CASSIUS.
Under your testy humor? By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you ; for from this day forth Cas. That you have wronged me doth appear I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, in this :
When you are waspish. You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella, Cas.
Is it come to this? For taking bribes here of the Sardians ;
Bru. You say you are a better soldier : Wherein my letters, praying on his side, Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, Because I knew the man, were slighted off. And it shall please me well : For mine own part, Bru. You wronged yourself to write in such a I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
Cas. You wrong me, every way you wrong me, CAs. In such a time as this, it is not meet
Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Did I say, better?
If you did, I care not. To sell and mart your offices for gold,
CAs. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus To undeservers.
have moved me. Cas. I an itching palm ?
Bru. Peace, peace ! you durst not so have You know that you are Brutus that speak this, tempted him. Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. CAs. I durst not? BRU. The name of Cassius honors this corrup- BRU. No. tion,
Cas. What! durst not tempt him ? And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. BRU.
durst not. Cas. Chastisement !
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love ; Bru. Remember March, the ides of March re- I may do that I shall be sorry for. member!
BRU. You have done that you should be sorry Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ; And not for justice? What ! shall one of us, For I am armed so strong in honesty, That struck the foremost man of all this world, That they pass by me as the idle wind, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Which I respect not.
I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you
O Brutus !
What's the matter ? By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
Cas. Have you not love enough to bear with And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
me, From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, When that rash humor which my mother gave me By any indirection. I did send
Makes me forgetful ? To you for gold to pay my legions,
BRU. Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth,
If you give place to accidental evils.
Bru. No man bears sorrow better :- Portia is BRU. You did.
I did not : - he was but a fool CAs. Ha ! Portia ? That brought my answer back. Brutus hath BRU. She is dead. rived
Cas. How 'scaped I killing, when I crossed you A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
so ? -
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. Upon what sickness?
Impatient of my absence, BRU.
I do not like your faults. And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony CAS. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Have made themselves so strong ; - for with her BRU. A flatterer's would not, though they do death appear
That tidings came ; — with this she fell distract, As huge as high Olympus.
And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, Cas. And died so ? come,
BRU. Even so.
Cas. O ye immortal gods !
Bru. Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl
of wine :To cast into my teeth.
0, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! - There is
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. (Drinks.)
my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart
Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble, Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold :
pledge. If that thou be’st a Roman, take it forth ;
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart.
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. (Drinks.) Strike as thou didst at Cæsar; for I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov’dst
him better Than ever thou lov'dst Cassius.
THE ROYAL GUEST. BRU.
Sheath your dagger :
They tell me I am shrewd with other men ; Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ;
With thee I 'm slow, and difficult of speech. Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.
With others I may guide the car of talk : O Cassius, you are yokéd with a lamb
Thou wing'st it oft to realms beyond my reach. That carries anger, as the flint bears fire ; Who, much enforcéd, shows a hasty spark,
If other guests should come, I'd deck my hair, And straight is cold again.
And choose my newest garment from the shelf ; Cas.
Hath Cassius lived When thou art bidden, I would clothe my heart To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
With holiest purpose, as for God himself. When grief, and blood ill-tempered, vexeth him ?
Bru. When I spoke that, I wasill-tempered too. For them I while the hours with tale or song, Cas. Do you confess so much ? Give me your Or web of fancy, fringed with careless rhyme ; hand.
But how to find a fitting lay for thee, BRU. And my heart too.
Who hast the harmonies of every time ?
COMPLIMENT AND ADMIRATION.
TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY.
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend : But upon the fairest boughs,
Or at every sentence' end, Will I Rosalinda write ;
Teaching all that read to know The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little show. Therefore Heaven nature charged
That one body should be filled With all graces wide enlarged :
Nature presently distilled Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
Cleopatra's majesty, Atalanta's better part,
Sad Lucretia's modesty. Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised; Of many faces, eyes, and hearts,
To have the touches dearest prized. Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
And I to live and die her slave.
PHILLIS THE FAIR.
On a hill there grows a flower,
Fair befall the dainty sweet !
Where the heavenly muses meet.
In that bower there is a chair,
Fringéd all about with gold,
That ever eye did yet behold.
It is Phillis, fair and bright,
She that is the shepherd's joy,
And did blind her little boy.
Who would not that face admire ?
Who would not this saint adore !
Though he thought to see no more.
Thou that art the shepherd's queen,
Look upon thy love-sick swain ;
Dead men brought to life again.