They learn from you the lesson plain That Life may go, so Honour stay,— The deeds you wrought are not in vain!

ENVOY.

HEROES of old! I humbly lay
The laurel on your graves again;
Whatever men have done, men may,—
The deeds you wrought are not in vain.

THE BALLAD OF THE THRUSH

ACROSS the noisy street

I hear him careless throw

One warning utterance sweet;
Then faint at first, and low,
The full notes closer grow;
Hark! what a torrent gush!
They pour, they overflow-
Sing on, sing on, O Thrush!

What trick, what dream's deceit

Has fooled his fancy so
To scorn of dust and heat?
I, prisoned here below,
Feel the fresh breezes blow;
And see, thro' flag and rush,
Cool water sliding slow-
Sing on, sing on, O Thrush!

Sing on. What though thou beat
On that dull bar, thy foe!
Somewhere the green boughs meet
Beyond the roofs a-row;

Somewhere the blue skies show,
Somewhere no black walls crush

Poor hearts with hopeless woe— Sing on, sing on, O Thrush!

ENVOY.

BIRD, though they come, we know,
The empty cage, the hush;
Still, ere the brief day go,
Sing on, sing on, O Thrush I

THE BALLAD OF THE BARMECIDE

'O one in Eastern clime,-'tis said,

-

There came a man at eve with "Lo! Friend, ere the day be dimmed and dead, Hast thou a mind to feast, and know Fair cates, and sweet wine's overflow?" To whom that other fain replied—

"Lead on. Not backward I nor slow ;Where is thy feast, O Barmecide ?"

Thereon the bidder passed and led

To where, apart from dust and glow, They found a board with napery spread, And gold, and glistering cups a-row. "Eat," quoth the host, yet naught did show To whom his guest-"Thy board is wide; But barren is the cheer, I trow; Where is thy feast, O Barmecide?"

"Eat," quoth the man not less, and fed From meats unseen, and made as though He drank of wine both white and red.

"Eat,―ere the day to darkness grow. Short space and scant the Fates bestow!" What time his guest him wondering eyed, Muttering in wrath his beard below"Where is thy feast, O Barmecide?"

ENVOY.

LIFE, 'tis of thee they fable so.

Thou bidd'st us eat, and still denied, Still fasting, from thy board we go:— "Where is thy feast, O Barmecide?"