HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS

FROM GHENT.

BY ROBERT BROWNING.

I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew ;

"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;

I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near
Lockeren, the cocks crew, and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see ;
At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be ;
And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half

chime,

So Joris broke silence with "Yet there is time!"

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one,
To stare through the mist at us galloping past,

And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
With resolute shoulders, each butting away

The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray.

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, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and

anon

His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur!

Your Ross galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix"-for one heard the quick wheeze

Of her chest, saw her 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; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop" gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!" and all in a moment his

roan

Rolled neck and crop over, lay dead as a stone;

And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,

With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-socket's rim.

Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
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 sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground,

And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of

wine,

Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.

(By permission of the Author.)

THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.

By H. W. LONGFELLOW.

IT was the schooner Hesperus

That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughter To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,

That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow,

The smoke now west, now south.

Then up and spake an old sailor

Had sailed the Spanish Main"I pray thee put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"

The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the north-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused like a frightened stced, Then leapt her cable's length.

"Come hither-come hither, my little daughter, And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale

That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her in his seaman's coat,
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

"Oh! father! I hear the church-bells ringOh! say, what may it be?"

"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" And he steered for the open sea.

"Oh! father! I hear the sound of guns; Oh! say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"

"Oh! father! I see a gleaming light;
Oh!
say, what may it be?"

But the father answered never a word-
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,

With his face turned to the skies,

The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes,