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See now, there certainly seems excuse: for a moment, I trust, dear friends, The fault was but folly, no fault of mine, or if mine, I have made amends!

For, every day that is first of May, on the hilltop here stand I,

Martin Relph, and I strike my brow, and publish the reason why,

When there gathers a crowd to mock the fool. No fool, friends, since the bite

Of a worm inside is worse to bear: pray God I have balked him quite!

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Gives by her fate fair warning to such acquaintance as play the spy.

Henceforth who meddle with matters of state

above them perhaps will learn

That peasants should stick to their plough-tail, leave to King the King's concern.

"Here's a quarrel that sets the land on fire, between King George and his foes:1 What call has a man of your kind-much less, a woman-to interpose?

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Yet you needs must be meddling, folk like you, not foes- so much the worse!

The many and loyal should keep themselves unmixed with the few perverse.

"Is the counsel hard to follow? I gave it you plainly a month ago,

And where was the good? The rebels have learned just all that they need to know. Not a month since in we quietly marched: a week and they had the news, From a list complete of our rank and file to a note of our caps and shoes.

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Black? but the Pit's own pitch was white to the Captain's face-the brute

With the bloated cheeks and the bulgy nose and the bloodshot eyes to suit!

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He was muddled with wine, they say: more like, he was out of his wits with fear; He had but a handful of men, that's true,-& riot might cost him dear.

And all that time stood Rosamund Page, with pinioned arms and face

Bandaged about, on the turf marked out for the party's firing-place.

I hope she was wholly with God: I hope 'twas His angel stretched a hand

To steady her so, like the shape of stone you see in our church-aisle stand.

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Those heaped on the hill were blind as dumb,for, of all eyes, only mine

Looked over the heads of the foremost rank. Some fell on their knees in prayer,

Some sank to the earth, but all shut eyes, with a sole exception there.

That was myself, who had stolen up last, had sidled behind the group:

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I am highest of all on the hill-top, there stand fixed while the others stoop! From head to foot in a serpent's twine am I tightened: I touch ground?

No more than a gibbet's rigid corpse which the fetters rust around!

Can I speak, can I breathe, can I burst-aught else but see, see, only see?

And see I do for there comes in sight-a man, it sure must be!

Who staggeringly, stumblingly, rises, falls, rises, at random flings his weight

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Her in the body and him in the soul. They laugh at our plighted troth. "Till death us do part?" Till death us do join past parting-that sounds like: Betrothal indeed! O Vincent Parkes, what need has my fist to strike?

I helped you: thus were you dead and wed: one bound and your soul reached hers! There is clenched in your hand the thing, signed, sealed, the paper which plain avers She is innocent, innocent, plain as print, with the King's Arms broad engraved: No one can hear, but if any one high on the hill can see, she's saved!

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And at length when he wrung their pardon out, no end to the stupid forms

The license and leave: I make no doubt-what wonder if passion warms

The pulse in a man if you play with his heart?he was something hasty in speech; Anyhow, none would quicken the work; he had to beseech, beseech!

And the thing once signed, sealed, safe in his grasp,-what followed but fresh delays? For the floods were out, he was forced to take such a roundabout of ways!

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And 'twas "Halt there!" at every turn of the road, since he had to cross the thick Of the red-coats: what did they care for him and his "Quick, for God's sake, quick!" Horse? but he had one: had it how long? till the first knave smirked "You brag

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Jeer at the fool and jibe at the coward! 'Twas ever the coward's curse:

That fear breeds fancies in such: such take their shadow for substance still,

-A fiend at their back. I liked poor Parkes,-loved Vincent, if you will!

And her-why, I said "Good morrow" to her, "Good even," and nothing more:

The neighborly way! She was just to me as fifty had been before.

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So, coward it is and coward shall be! There's a friend, now! Thanks! A drink

Of water I wanted: and now I can walk, get home by myself, I think.

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Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue,

And bared them of the glory-to drop down,
To toil for man, to suffer or to die,-

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This is the same voice: can thy soul know change?

Hail then, and harken from the realms of help!
Never may I commence my song, my due
To God who best taught song by gift of thee,

Except with bent head and beseeching hand-
That still, despite the distance and the dark, 16
What was, again may be; some interchange
Of grace, some splendor once thy very thought,
Some benediction anciently thy smile:

-Never conclude, but raising hand and head 20 Thither where eyes that cannot reach, yet yearn

For all hope, all sustainment, all reward,
Their utmost, up and on, so blessing back
In those thy realms of help, that heaven thy
home,

Some whiteness which, I judge, thy face makes

proud,

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Some wanness where, I think, thy foot may fall!

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CHEERFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON
I think we are too ready with complaint
In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope

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Of yon grey blank of sky, we might grow faint
To muse upon eternity's constraint
Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop,
For a few days consumed in loss and taint?
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted
And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road, 10
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod

To meet the flints? At least it may be said,
"Because the way is short, I thank thee, God."

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