JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. 1840-1893

THE JEWS' CEMETERY ON THE LIDO
A tract of land swept by the salt sea-foam,

Fringed with acacia flowers and billowy deep,
In meadow-grasses, where tall poppies sleep,
And bees athirst for wilding honey roam.
How many a bleeding heart hath found its home,
Under these hillocks which the sea-mews sweep!
Here knelt an outcast race to curse and weep,
Age after age, 'neath heaven's unanswering dome.
Sad is the place and solemn. Grave by grave,
Lost in the dunes, with rank weeds overgrown,
Pines in abandonment; as though unknown,
Uncared for, lay the dead, whose records pave
This path neglected; each forgotten stone
Wept by no mourner but the moaning wave.

EDWARD BOWEN. 1837-1901

FORTY YEARS ON

Forty years on, when afar and asunder

Parted are those who are singing to-day,
When you look back, and forgetfully wonder
What you were like in your work and your play ;
Then it may be, there will often come o'er you
Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song-
Visions of boyhood shall float them before you,
Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along.
Follow up! Follow up! Follow up! Follow up!
Till the field ring again and again,

With the tramp of the twenty-two men,
Follow up! Follow up!

Routs and discomfitures, rushes and rallies,
Bases attempted, and rescued, and won,
Strife without anger, and art without malice,-
How will it seem to you forty years on?

Then, you will say, not a feverish minute

Strained the weak heart, and the wavering knee,

Never the battle raged hottest, but in it
Neither the last nor the faintest were we !

Follow up! Follow up p!

O the great days, in the distance enchanted,
Days of fresh air, in the rain and the sun,
How we rejoiced as we struggled and panted-
Hardly believable, forty years on!

How we discoursed of them, one with another,
Auguring triumph, or balancing fate,

Loved the ally with the heart of a brother,
Hated the foe with a playing at hate!
Follow up! Follow up!

Forty years on, growing older and older,
Shorter in wind, and in memory long,

Feeble of foot and rheumatic of shoulder,

What will it help you that once you were strong? God give us bases to guard or beleaguer,

Games to play out, whether earnest or fun, Fights for the fearless, and goals for the eager, Twenty, and thirty, and forty years on! Follow up! Follow up!

SHEMUEL

Shemuel, the Bethlehemite,
Watched a fevered guest at night
All his fellows fared afield
Saw the angel host revealed;
He nor caught the mystic story,
Heard the song, nor saw the glory.

Through the night they gazing stood,
Heard the holy multitude;

Back they came in wonder home,
Knew the Christmas kingdom come,

Eyes aflame, and hearts elated;
Shemuel sat alone, and waited.

Works of mercy now, as then,
Hide the angel host from men ;
Hearts attune to earthly love
Miss the angel notes above;
Deeds at which the world rejoices,
Quench the sound of angel voices.

So they thought, nor deemed from whence

His celestial recompense.

Shemuel, by the fever bed,

Touched by beckoning hands that led,

Died, and saw the Uncreated;
All his fellows lived, and waited.

COSMO MONKHOUSE. 1840-1901

THE NIGHT EXPRESS

With three great snorts of strength,
Stretching my mighty length,

Like some long dragon stirring in his sleep,
Out from the glare of gas

Into the night I pass,

And plunge alone into the silence deep.

Little I know or care

What be the load I bear,

Why thus compell'd, I seek not to divine;
At man's command I stir,

I, his stern messenger!

Does he his duty well as I do mine?

Straight on my silent road,

Flank'd by no man's abode,

No foe I parley with, no friend I greet;
On like a bolt I fly

Under the starry sky,

Scorning the current of the sluggish street.

Onward from South to North,

Onward from Thames to Forth,

On-like a comet-on, unceasingly,

Faster and faster yet.

On-where far boughs of jet

Stretch their wild woof against the pearly sky.