AN UNFINISHED SONG. Teach him the song that no one living knows? And God will surely teach him more than this. Again the Bird. I turned, and passed along; But Time and Death, Eternity and Change, Talked with me ever, and the climbing song Rose in my hearing, beautiful and strange. 157 H THE CHILD-MUSICIAN. E had played for his lordship's levec, Till the poor little head was heavy, And the face grew peaked and eerie, But at dawn, when the birds were waking, 'Twas a string of his violoncello, And they heard him stir in his bed:"Make room for a tired little fellow, : Kind God -" was the last that he said. THE CRADLE. 159 H THE CRADLE. WOW steadfastly she'd worked at it! With all her would-be-mother's wit That little rosy nest! How longingly she'd hung on it !— BEFORE SEDAN. "The dead hand clasped a letter." SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE. HERE, in this leafy place, Quiet he lies, Cold, with his sightless face 'Tis but another dead; All you can say is said. Carry his body hence, Kings must have slaves; Kings climb to eminence Over men's graves: So this man's eye is dim ;— What was the white you touched, There, at his side? Paper his hand had clutched Tight ere he died ;— Message or wish, may be ;— Smooth the folds out and see. BEFORE SEDAN. Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled ! Only the tremulous Words of a child ;*Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His-her dead father's-kiss; Good to mamma, and sweet. Ah, if beside the dead Slumbered the pain! Ah, if the hearts that bled Slept with the slain ! If the grief died ;—But no ;- M 161 |