I BY ROBERT BROWNING. SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he : Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through. Not a word to each other: we kept the great pace, 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half So Joris broke silence with, " Yet there is time!" At Aerschot up leaped of a sudden the sun, And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, its own master, askance; And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. By Hasselt Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her; We'll remember at Aix" - for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; 'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, “How they 'll greet us!”—and all in a moment his roan Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall, Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer, Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is friends flocking round, As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; Was no more than his due who brought good news from THE OLD POLITICIAN. BY ROBERT BUCHANAN. OW that Tom Dunstan 's cold, Scarce a story is told! And our chat has lost the old Though he was sickly and thin, He gladdened us with his face; "She's coming, she's coming!" said he; 'Courage, boys! wait and see! Freedom's ahead!" All day we sat in the heat, Like spiders spinning, While the old Jew on his seat Sat greasily grinning; And there Tom said his say, And prophesied Tyranny's death; And we stitched and stitched away With hearts as heavy as lead; But "Patience, she's coming!" said he; "Courage, boys! wait and see! Freedom's ahead!" And at night, when we took here pause allowed to us, The The paper came with the beer, The news out loud to us; How he turned them inside out! And it made our breath more free To hearken to what he said; "She's coming, she's coming!" says he; Courage, boys! wait and see! Freedom's ahead!" But grim Jack Hart, with a sneer, If Freedom means to appear, |