Part 30 (2/2)

Oh, workmen, seen by me sublime, When from the tyrant wrenched ye peace, Can you be dazed by tinselled crime, And spy no wolf beneath the fleece?

Build palaces where Fortunes feast, And bear your loads like well-trained beast, Though once such masters you made flee!

But then, like me, you ate Food of a blessed _fete_-- The bread of _Liberty_!

H.L.W.

POOR LITTLE CHILDREN.

_(”La femelle! elle est morte.”)_

[Bk. I. xiii., Jersey, February, 1853.]

Mother birdie stiff and cold, Puss has hushed the other's singing; Winds go whistling o'er the wold,-- Empty nest in sport a-flinging.

Poor little birdies!

Faithless shepherd strayed afar, Playful dog the gadflies catching; Wolves bound boldly o'er the bar, Not a friend the fold is watching-- Poor little lambkins!

Father into prison fell, Mother begging through the parish; Baby's cot they, too, will sell,-- Who will now feed, clothe and cherish?

Poor little children!

APOSTROPHE TO NATURE.

_(”O Soleil!”)_

[Bk. II. iv., Anniversary of the Coup d'etat, 1852.]

O Sun! thou countenance divine!

Wild flowers of the glen, Caves swoll'n with shadow, where suns.h.i.+ne Has pierced not, far from men; Ye sacred hills and antique rocks, Ye oaks that worsted time, Ye limpid lakes which snow-slide shocks Hurl up in storms sublime; And sky above, unruflfed blue, Chaste rills that alway ran From stainless source a course still true, What think ye of this man?

NAPOLEON ”THE LITTLE.”

_(”Ah! tu finiras bien par hurler!”)_

[Bk. III. ii., Jersey, August, 1852.]

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