Never here, forever there, And death, and time shall disappear,- "Forever-never! Never-forever!" BUGLE SONG. From "The Princess."- Tennyson. The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying: O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, THE DREAM OF EUGENE ARAM. 'T was in the prime of summer time, An evening calm and cool, And four-and-twenty happy boys Came bounding out of school: Thomas Hod. There were some that ran and some that leapt, Like troutlets in a pool. Away they sped with gamesome minds, And souls untouch'd by sin; To a level mead they came, and there They drave the wickets in: Pleasantly shown the setting sun Like sportive deer they coursed about, Turning to mirth all things of earth, But the Usher sat remote from all, His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch heaven's blessed breeze; For a burning thought was in his brow, So he lean'd his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees! Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er, Nor ever glanced aside, For the peace of his soul he read that book In the golden eventide : Much study had made him very lean, At last he shut the ponderous tome, Then leaping on his feet upright, Some moody turns he took,— And past a shady nook, And, lo! he saw a little boy That pored upon a book! "My gentle lad, what is 't you read Romance or fairy fable? Or is it some historic page, Of kings and crowns unstable?" The young boy gave an upward glance,— "It is The Death of Abel."" The Usher took six hasty strides, And down he sat beside the lad, And, long since then, of bloody men Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And how the sprites of injured men He told how murderers walked the earth With crimson clouds before their eyes, For blood has left upon their souls "And well," quoth he, "I know, for truth, Their pangs must be extreme, Woe, woe, unutterable woe, Who spill life's sacred stream! For why? Methought, last night, I wrought A murder, in a dream! "One that had never done me wrong A feeble man and old; I led him to a lonely field, The moon shown clear and cold: 'Now here,' said I, this man shall die, And I will have his gold!' "Two sudden blows with ragged stick, And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife,— "Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, And yet I fear'd him all the more, There was a manhood in his look, "And, lo! the universal air Seem'd lit with ghastly flame; Ten thousand thousand dreadful eyes Were looking down in blame: I took the dead man by his hand, And call'd upon his name! "O, God! it made me quake to see But when I touch'd the lifeless clay, "My head was like an ardent coal, My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, A dozen times I groan'd; the dead "And now, from forth the frowning sky, From the Heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice- the awful voice Of the blood-avenging sprite :— "Thou guilty man! take up thy dead And hide it from my sight!' "I took the dreary body up, And cast it in a stream,— "Down went the corse with a hollow plunge, And vanish'd in the pool; Anon I cleansed my bloody hands, And wash'd my forehead cool, And sat among the urchins young, That evening in the school. "Oh, Heaven! to think of their white souls, And mine so black and grim! I could not share in childish prayer, "And peace went with them, one and all, But Guilt was my grim Chamberlain And drew my midnight curtains round, With fingers bloody red! “All night I lay in agony, In anguish dark and deep, My fever'd eyes I dared not close, For Sin had render'd unto her The keys of Hell to keep! "All night I lay in agony, From weary chime to chime, "One stern tyrannic thought, that made Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave,— |