The Irish republic. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1867-18??, 1868-02-01

At least twas whispered SO, nor could she guess
Why he had broken the sweet wreathe whose flowers
Had grown SO many all those summer hours
Meanwhile, it CHANGED that with the closing year
Nimue crossed to England, by her sire
Accompanied, and passed. mid plenteous cheer,
And sports, and dances by the evening fire.
Of friends in Devon, fair month or more;
And winter blankly met them on the shore,
Returning, whence they the stormy strait
Space 'twixt the coasts, sullen and black as hate,
The curling pillows tear the flinty beach
Of Dover, and around its chalky heights
Heard the loud winds of clustering ocean roar,
The while descending to sheltered reach
Where swung their anchored pinnace to and fro
It's masts athwart the gloom. They went below,
And sailed into the storm The surges frore
Soon swept the decks; the lessenng land sank low,
Which they had left; seen were Calais lights.
Maychance an hour had sped, the little bark
Shook with each billow, plungng through the dark;
When sudden came shock upon the deck
The trampling of firm feet were heard-a voice
Louder than cen the driving tempest's noise,
And then the close barred cabin door was burst,
And figures swiftly seized and bore above
The terrored Nimue. All round was wreck
Black was the wide sea like moving grave
And by her side the gloomy form
OF Hugo, who, in tones of rage and love,
Ordered his men to bear her swift aboard
His vessel from the sinking pinnace, when
Windward she saw sail like foam 1eck
Send towards them Ger the plunging mounting wave,
And Nimue screamed" Save us, Alured, savep
Till like bolt betwixt the ships it drove.
Upon the pirate deck she saw him dash,
And there clashing weapons, and flash,
And Hugo's grasp loosened and down he fell
Headlong into the surge, as into hell;
The while Alured, crying to his men
To save her SIRE grasping, bore her away
Aboard his rescung vessel, in which soon
The old man was received, and in the gray
Glare stormily shed from the low rising MOON
Borne by the stiff sail matching with the blast
Soon through the pillows they were cleaving fast,
And ere an hour beheld through driving foam
The lights of Calais harbor and of home.
X X X
1t is tender cloudless April morn,
Fresh is the earth, the channel calm and blue,
The hedges by the roads are bright with dew,
Blythe swallow focks fly DER the growing corn,
Flocks of white barques upon the silver line
Ofwatry luster indistinctly shine
And from the steeples, toned to the clear spring.
The bells of Calais iubilantly ring,
AS music heralding, joyous train,
In garb of holiday, above the main,
Up the high sunny street, with garands gay,
Pace toward the great cathedral mild and gray.
Play music play along the cheerful way,
Aured weds sweet Nmue to-day.
In Norman forest green this airy morn,
Unheard is woodmans stroke or hunters horn,
For all the peasants in the oaken screen
Have thronged to banquet on the castles green;
Deer flesh and flowers and sonnets sweet beside,
Glad youths and maids have sent unto the bride,
Who, smiling now, the ceremony DER,
Has past her sculptors statue by the door;
And home returns mid echoing minstrelsy,
To feast the towns folk by the tranquil sea.
Gather, laughing groups upon each sunny height
Feast sing, and talk about the merry sight;
Dance maidens, light and daintily bedight
With red wine and with bonfire Calais glows tonight.
IL &C