Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;

In a cavern under is fettered the thunder-
It struggles and howls at fits:

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the genii that move

In the depths of the purple sea;

Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;

And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

3. The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the Morning-star shines dead,
As on the jag of a mountain-crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of its golden wings.

And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea be-
Its ardors of rest and love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest,
As still as a brooding dove.

4. The orbed maiden, with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;

[neath,

And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,

Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

5. I bind the Sun's throne with the burning zone,
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,

Over a torrent sea,

Sunbeam proof, I hang like a roof

The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march,
With hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-colored bow;

The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
While the moist earth was laughing below.

6. I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain, when with never a stain

The pavilion of heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex
Build up the blue dome of the air, [gleams,

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the
I arise and unbuild it again.

[tomb,

SHELLEY.

LESSON LXVII.

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX.

Pōs'tern, a back door or gate.

Hōl'ster, a leather case for a pistol, carried by a horseman at the forepart of his saddle.

Spume, froth; foam.

Bûr'ġess eş, magistrates of a borough or city.

I

SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;

"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;

"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

2. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace, Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;

I turned in my saddle, and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

3. 'Twas moonset at starting; but, while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be; And from Mechlin church-steeple we heard the halfchime,

So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"

4. At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare through the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper, Roland, at last,
With resolute shoulders each butting away

The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray;

5. And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back,

For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence-ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

6. By Hasselt Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur!

Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix”—for one heard the quick wheeze

Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees,

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,

As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

7. So we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Loos and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;

The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh;

'Neath our foot broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;

Till over by Dalhem a dome-tower sprang white,

And "Gallop," cried Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

8. "How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his

roan

Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

9. Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without

peer,

Clapped my hands, laughed and sung, any noise, bad or good,

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

10. And all I remember is friends flocking round,

As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Glent.

ROBERT BROWNING.