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Never here, forever there,
“Forever- - never !
BUGLE SONG. From “ The Prince88."— Tennyson, The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story;
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, further going ;
The horns of Elfand faintly blowing !
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
And grow forever and forever.
THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM.
'T was in the
ne of summer time,
Came bounding out of school:
Like troutlets in a pool.
Away they sped with gamesome minds,
And souls untouch'd by sin;
To a level mead they came, and there
They drave the wickets in: Pleasantly shown the setting sun
Over the town of Lynn.
Like sportive deer they coursed about,
And shouted as they ran,-
As only boyhood can;
A melancholy man!
His hat was off, his vest apart,
To catch heaven's blessed breeze;
And his bosom ill at ease :
The book between his knees !
Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er,
Nor ever glanced aside,
In the golden eventide :
And pale, and leaden-eyed.
At last he shut the ponderous tome,
With a fast and fervent grasp
And fix'd the brazen hasp:
And clasp it with a clasp!”
Then leaping on his feet upright,
Some moody turns he took,-
And past a shady nook,-
That pored upon a book ! “My gentle lad, what is 't you read —
Romance or fairy fable ? Or is it some historic page,
Of kings and crowns unstable?”
The young boy gave an upward glance,“ It is · The Death of Abel.""
The Usher took six hasty strides,
As smit with sudden pain,-
Then slowly back again;
And talk'd with him of Cain;
And, long since then, of bloody men
Whose deeds tradition saves;
And hid in sudden graves;
And murders done in caves;
And how the sprites of injured men
Shriek upward from the sod,-
To show the burial clod ;
Are seen in dreams from God ;
He told how murderers walked the earth
Beneath the curse of Cain,-
And flames about their brain :
Its everlasting stain !
“And well,” quoth he, “I know, for truth,
Their pangs must be extreme,Woe, woe, unutterable woe,
Who spill life's sacred stream! For why? Methought, last night, I wrought
A murder, in a dream !
« One that had never done me wrong
A feeble man and oid ;
The moon shown clear and cold :
And I will have his gold!'
- Two sudden blows with ragged stick,
And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife.
And then the deed was done : There was nothing lying at my foot
But lifeless flesh and bone!
“Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone,
That could not do me ill;
For lying there so still:
That murder could not kill!
“ And, lo! the universal air
Seem'd lit with ghastly flame; -
Were looking down in blame:
And call’d upon his name !
“0, God ! it made me quake to see
Such sense within the slain !
The blood gush'd out amain !
Was scorching in my brain !
“ My head was like an ardent coal,
My heart as solid ice;
Was at the Devil's price:
Had never groan’d but twice!
“ And now, from forth the frowning sky,
From the Heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice -the awful voice
Of the blood-avenging sprite: “Thou guilty man! take up thy dead
And hide it from my sight!'
"I took the dreary body up,
And cast it in a stream,
A sluggish water, black as ink,
The depth was so extreme :My gentle Boy, remember this
Is nothing but a dream !
“Down went the corse with a hollow plunge,
And vanish'd in the pool ;
And wash'd my forehead cool,
That evening in the school.
“Oh, Heaven! to think of their white souls,
And mine so black and grim!
Nor join in Evening Hymn :
'Mid holy Cherubim !
“And peace went with them, one and all,
And each calon pillow spread;
That lighted me to bed ;
With fingers bloody red !
“ All night I lay in agony,
In anguish dark and deep,
But stared aghast at Sleep:
The keys of Hell to keep! “ All night I lay in agony,
From weary chime to chime,
That rack'd me all the time;
Fierce impulse unto crime !
“One stern tyrannic thought, that made
All other thoughts its slave; Stronger and stronger every pulse
Did that temptation crave,