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Hereafter ?—And do you think to look
To find her failings, faults, and errors '.'
In your own secret sins and terrors!
THE EMPEHOK'S BIKDS NEST.
Once the Emperor Charles of Spain,
I forget in what campaign,
Long besieged, in mud and rain,
Up and down the dreary camp,
Striding with a measured tramp,
These Hidalgos, dull and damp,
Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the weather.
Thus as to and fro they went,
Yes, it was a swallow's nest,
Built of clay and hair of horses, Mane, or tail, or dragoon's crest, Found on hedge-rows east and west, After skirmish of the forces.
Then an old Hidalgo said,
As he twirled his gray mustachio, "Sure this swallow overhead Thinks the Emperor's tent a shed,
And the Emperor but a Macho!"
Hearing his imperial name
Coupled with those words of malice, Half in anger, half in shame, Forth the great campaigner came
Slowly from his canvas palace.
"Let no hand the bird molest,"
Said he solemnly, " nor hurt her!" Adding then, by way of jest,
Golondrina is my guest,
Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the rumor,
And the soldiers, as they quaffed
Flemish beer at dinner, laughed
So unharmed and unafraid
Sat the swallow still and brooded,
Then the army, elsewhere bent,
Only not the Emperor's tent,
For he ordered, ere he went,
Very curtly, " Leave it standing!"
So it stood there all alone,
Loosely flapping, torn and tattered, Till the brood was fledged and flown, Singing o'er those walls of stone
Which the cannon-shot had shattered. THE GOLDEN MILE-STONE.
Leafless are the trees; their purple branches
From the hundred chimneys of the village,
At the window winks the flickering fire-light;
On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing,
For its freedom