GALLEY SONG

ROBERT BROWNING

ROBERT BROWNING, one of the greatest of English poets, was born in 1812. His verse is not always smooth, and it is hard at times to understand his meaning; but his poems well repay deep study. To Browning life was good and glad. He does not forget the hard, sad things, but he never loses courage. Browning died in Venice, Italy, in 1889.

NOTE. ing poe`, afresh

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- In the two lines quoted lies the hidden meaning of the followthe pathos of lives too proud to own their mistakes and begin

"The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung

To their first fault, and withered in their pride."

Over the sea our galleys went,

With cleaving prows in order brave

To a speeding wind and a bounding wave
A gallant armament :

Each bark built out of a forest tree

Left leafy and rough as first it grew,

And nailed all over the gaping sides,
Within and without, with black bull-hides,
Seethed in fat and suppled in flame,
To bear the playful billows' game:
So, each good ship was rude to see,
Rude and bare to the outward view,

But each upbore a stately tent
Where cedar pales in scented row
Kept out the flakes of the dancing brine,

And an awning drooped the mast below,
In fold on fold of the purple fine,

That neither noontide nor starshine

Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad,
Might pierce the regal tenement.
When the sun dawned, oh, gay and glad
We set the sail and plied the oar;

But when the night wind blew like breath,
For joy of one day's voyage more,

We sang together on the wide sea,

Like men at peace on a peaceful shore;
Each sail was loosed to the wind so free,
Each helm made sure by the twilight star,
And in a sleep as calm as death,

We, the voyagers from afar,

Lay stretched along, each weary crew

In a circle round its wondrous tent

Whence gleamed soft light and curled rich scent,
And with light and perfume, music too:

So the stars wheeled round, and the darkness past,
And at morn we started beside the mast,
And still each ship was sailing fast.

Now, one morn, land appeared -a speck
Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky:
"Avoid it," cried our pilot, "check

The shout, restrain the eager eye!"

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But the heaving sea was black behind
For many a night and many a day,
And land, though but a rock, drew nigh;
So, we broke the cedar pales away,

Let the purple awning flap in the wind,
And a statue bright was on every deck!
We shouted, every man of us,

And steered right into the harbor thus,
With pomp and pæan glorious.

A hundred shapes of lucid stone!
All day we built its shrine for each,
A shrine of rock for every one,
Nor paused till in the westering sun
We sat together on the beach

To sing because our task was done.
When lo! what shouts and merry songs!
What laughter all the distance stirs !
A loaded raft with happy throngs
Of gentle islanders!

"Our isles are just at hand," they cried,
"Like cloudlets faint in even sleeping.
Our temple gates are open wide,

Our olive groves thick shade are keeping
For these majestic forms"- they cried.
Oh, then we awoke with sudden start
From our deep dream, and knew, too late,

How bare the rock, how desolate,
Which had received our precious freight;

Yet we called out "Depart !

Our gifts, once given, must here abide.

Our work is done; we have no heart
To mar our work," we cried.

maketh mad: the direct light of the moon was long supposed to have a disturbing effect on one's mental condition. See the history of the word "lunatic.". made sure sailors in all ages have used the stars as points to steer by. a statue bright: by this figure the poet represents a man's ideal. The voyagers lacked not only the patience and wisdom to give their ideals a proper setting but also the courage to confess that they had made a mistake. — pæans (pē ́ans): songs of triumph. — lucid: shining. The common use of lucid as clear is according to its secondary meaning.

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TRUTH

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES (1809-1894), the poet and wit of Boston, was also a noted physician, professor, and prose writer. He was the author of a series of delightful books, beginning with the "Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table," and ending with "Over the Teacups."

NOTE. The following selection is taken from the "Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table."

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Did you never, in walking in the fields, come across a large flat stone, which had lain, nobody knows how long, just where you found it, with the grass forming a little 15 hedge, as it were, all round it, close to its edges, and