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High on the shore sate the great god Pan,
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
He cut it short, did the great god Pan, (How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sate by the river.
"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan, (Laughed while he sate by the river,)
The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed." Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed, He blew in power by the river.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain,— For the reed which grows never more again As a reed with the reeds in the river.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
WHAT is hope? A smiling rainbow
Never urchin found it yet.
What is life? A thawing iceboard
What is man? A foolish baby,
(Translated from the French of Gustave Naudaud, by John R. Thompson.)
I'M growing old, I've sixty years;
I've labored all my life in vain ;
I've failed my dearest wish to gain.
Bliss unalloyed there is for none.
I never have seen Carcassonne.
I never have seen Carcassonne !
You see the city from the hill,
It lies beyond the mountains blue,
Five long and weary leagues pursue,
Ah! had the vintage plenteous grown!
I shall not look on Carcassonne.
They tell me every day is
Not more or less than
The people walk upon
One gazes there on castle walls
I do not know fair Carcassonne.
The vicar's right: he says that we
Ambition ruins all mankind;
Thy pardon, Father, I beseech,
Have travelled even to Narbonne ;
So crooned, one day, close by Limoux,
But (Heaven forgive him!) half-way on
He never gazed on Carcassonne.
THE LOST LEADER.
JUST for a handful of silver he left us;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,