OUT IN THE COLD.
61
I saw Eugene in furious anger once,
Beating his horse till every quivering limb
Of the proud beast hardened to sinewy steel,
And the deep eyes flashed lightning back to him!
Charlie's white mare knows not the coward whip!
He feeds her with red clover wet with dew,—
I smooth her mane, soft as Italia's silk,
And, loving her, think of her master too!
I could not trust the man who beats his horse,—
Could you?
Beating his horse till every quivering limb
Of the proud beast hardened to sinewy steel,
And the deep eyes flashed lightning back to him!
Charlie's white mare knows not the coward whip!
He feeds her with red clover wet with dew,—
I smooth her mane, soft as Italia's silk,
And, loving her, think of her master too!
I could not trust the man who beats his horse,—
Could you?
Welcome! soft summer night! ablaze with stars!
Flushed rosy with the lang'rous smile of day!
Welcome! warm breezes that have swept through groves
Of orange-trees, around some southern bay!
Anchored, my heart's at rest! a calm supreme
Fills me with voiceless peace, so strangely new,
I almost fear to hold and make it mine,
Lest it should vanish like the morning dew!
I do not think I shall regret the Earl,—
Do you?
Flushed rosy with the lang'rous smile of day!
Welcome! warm breezes that have swept through groves
Of orange-trees, around some southern bay!
Anchored, my heart's at rest! a calm supreme
Fills me with voiceless peace, so strangely new,
I almost fear to hold and make it mine,
Lest it should vanish like the morning dew!
I do not think I shall regret the Earl,—
Do you?
OUT IN THE COLD.
The hoarse winds whistle, and bluster by,
The heavens are frigid and gray,—
The foam-white river washes the sands,—
The sea-waves beat in the bay,
And the dim sad rain is drowning the sun,
The sun at the noon of day.
The heavens are frigid and gray,—
The foam-white river washes the sands,—
The sea-waves beat in the bay,
And the dim sad rain is drowning the sun,
The sun at the noon of day.
