Carcassonne. "I'M growing old, I've sixty years; Bliss unalloyed there is for none, "You spy the city from the hill, It lies beyond the mountain blue; Had but the vintage plenteous grown – But, ah! the grape withheld its store. I shall not look on Carcassonne ! I shall not look on Carcassonne ! They tell me every day is there Not more or less than Sunday gay; In shining robes and garments fair The people walk upon their way. One gazes there on castle walls As grand as those of Babylon, A bishop and two generals! What joy to dwell in Carcassonne ! "The vicar's right: he says that we Are ever wayward, weak, and blind; He tells us in his homily Ambition ruins all mankind; Yet could I these two days have spent, "Thy pardon, Father, I beseech, In this my prayer if I offend; Have travelled even to Narbonne ; - So crooned, one day, close by Limoux, 66 I'll go upon this pilgrimage." with you We left, next morning, his abode, The old man died upon the road. He never gazed on Carcassonne. Each mortal has his Carcassonne. GUSTAVE NADAUD. Translated by JOHN R. THOMPSON. Crossing the Rappahannock. THEY leaped in the rocking shallops - Then the shore, where the rebels harbored, And buzzing like bees o'er the water In silence how dread and solemn, The line of the shallops drew. Not a whisper! Each man was conscious 'Twixt death in the air above them, They moved my God, how slow! And many a brave, stout fellow, Who sprang in the boats with mirth, Ere they made that fatal crossing Was a load of lifeless earth. And many a brave, stout fellow, Whose limbs with strength were rife, But yet the boats moved onward; Through fire and lead they drove, With the dark, still mass within them, And the floating stars above. They formed in line of battle Not a man was out of place; Then with levelled steel they hurled them Straight in the rebels' face. ANONYMOUS. Roll-Call. “CORPORAL GREEN!" the orderly cried. 66 Cyrus Drew!"- then silence fell, This time no answer followed the call; Only his rear man had seen him fall, Killed or wounded, he could not tell. There they stood in the failing light, These men of battle, with grave, dark looks, While slowly gathered the shades of night. The fern on the hill-side was splashed with blood, And down in the corn, where the poppies grew, Were redder stains than the poppies knew, And crimson-dyed was the river's flood. For the foe had crossed from the other side "Herbert Kline!" At the call there came Two stalwart soldiers into the line, Bearing between them this Herbert Kline, Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name. "Ezra Kerr!"—and a voice answered "Here!" "Hiram Kerr !"- but no man replied. They were brothers, these two; the sad wind sighed, And a shudder crept through the cornfield near. 66 Ephraim Deane !"— then a soldier spoke : "Deane carried our regiment's colors," he said; “Where our ensign was shot I left him dead, Just after the enemy wavered and broke. "Close to the roadside his body lies; I paused a moment and gave him drink; He murmured his mother's name, think, And death came with it and closed his eyes.” 'Twas a victory, yes, but it cost us dear; For that company's roll, when called at night, Of a hundred men who went into the fight, Numbered but twenty that answered "Here!" NATHANIEL GRAHAM SHEPHERD. Heroes. THE winds that once the Argo bore Have died by Neptune's ruined shrines, But out of their rest no charm can wile And Priam's wail is heard no more But Jove has gone from its brow away; And red on the plain the poppies grow Where the Greek and the Trojan fought that day. |