Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1865-03-03

A Court Lady.


A Court Lady.
'- by MRS. BROWNING.
l..
Her hair was tawny with gold, her eyes with pur-
pie dark,
Her checks pale opal bufnt with red and rest.
less spark.
Never was lady of Milton noblcr in name and in
race;
Never was lady of Italy fairer to see in face.
-=- III.
wife,
Larger in Judgment and instinct. prouder in man.
ners and life.
She stood in the early morning, and said to hel
maidens, Bring
That silkcn robe made ready to wear at the court
Of the King,
Bring mo the clasps of diamond, lucid, clear Of
the mote,
Clasp me the large at the waist. and clasp me the
small at the throat.
VI.
Diamonds to fasten the hair, and diamonds to
iasten the sleeves,
Laces to drop from their rays, like q powder Of
snow from the caves!
Gorgeous she entered the sunlight which gather
ed her up in fame,
While, straight in her open carriage, she to the
hospital came.
VIII.
In she went at the door, and gazing from end t.
end,
Many and low are the pallets, but each is tht
place of q friend
Up she passed through the wards, and stood a
young mans bed;
Bloody the band On his brow, and liyid the droop
Of his head.
'Art thou Lombard, my brother? Happy ar
And smiled like I.aly on him: he dreamed in hei
face and died:
Pale with his passing soul, she went on still to {
second:
lie was a grave hard man, whose years by dun
geonS were reckoncd.
XII.
Wounds in his body were sore, wounds in his lif,
were sorer
cart thou komagnole?' Her eyes drove light
hings before her.
XIII.
Austrian and priest had joined to double ans
Tighten the cord
Able to bind thee, strong onc,-frcc by th
stroke of u sword.
overcast
To ripen our wine Of tie present, (too new,) il
Gooon's Of the past.
Down she stepped to "a pallet where lay fac,
like II gins,
Young and pathetic with dying,-a deep black
hole in the curls.
art thou from Tuscany, brother ? and seest thou
dreaming in pain,
Thy mother stand in the piazza, searching the lis
Uf the slain p
XVII.
Kind as mother herself she touched his cheeks
with her hands;
blessed is she who has borne thee, although sh
should weep as she stands.
XVIII.
On she passed to freedman, his arm carried OF
M ball:
kneclie, - more than my brother ! how shall
thank the for all
Each of the heroes around us has fought for hi
land and line,
But thou hast fought for stranger, in hate of
wrong not thine.
XX.
Happy ire all free peoples, too strong to be dis
possessed,
But blessed are those among nations, who dare t.
be strong for the rest !"
XXI.
Ever she passed on her way, and came to q coucl
where pinned
OLe with face from Venetia, wlite with a hop
out of mind.
XXI.
Long sho stood and gazed, and twice she tried a
the name,
But two great crystal tears were all that faltcre'
and came.
XIII.
Only tear for Venice ?-she turned as in passion
and loss,
And stepped to his forehead and kissed it, as i
she were kissing the cross.
XXIV.
Faint with that strain Of heart, she moved OF
then to another,
Stern and strong in his death, and dost thei
suffer, my brother?
Holding his hands in hers;-'0ut Of the Piedmon
lion
Cometh the sweetness Of freedom sweetest to
live or to die on.
XVI.
Holding his cold rough hands-'Wcll. oh well
have We done
In noble, noble Piedmont, who would not be noble
alone
N.XVII.
lack he fell while she spoke. She rose to hel
feet with spring
That was Piedmontese /! and this is the Cour.
Of the King