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Heaven's morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows

flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.


ENGLAND, 1798–1845


No sun No morn


no moon!

no noon No dawn no dusk

no proper time of day
No sky — no earthly view –
No distance looking blue
No road
no street

- no “t'other side the way” –
No end to any Row
No indications where the crescents go -
No top to any steeple
No recognitions of familiar people
No courtesies for showing 'em –
No knowing 'em!
No traveling at all -- no locomotion -
No inkling of the way — no notion —
“No go” — by land or ocean
No mail no post
No news from any foreign coast —
No park

no ring — no afternoon gentility – No company — no nobility



No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds
5 November!


ENGLAND, 1800–1859

Horatius at the Bridge

The consul's brow was sad, and the consul's speech

was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the foe. “Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes

down; And if they once may win the bridge, what hope to

save the town?' Then out spoke brave Horatius, the captain of the

gate: To every man upon this earth death cometh, soon

or late. Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed

ye may; I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand may well be stopped

by three.




Now who will stand on either hand, and keep the

bridge with me?" Then out spake Spurious Lartius — a Ramnian proud

was he


"Lo! I will stand at thy right hand, and keep the

bridge with thee.” And out spake strong Herminius — of Titian blood

was he


"I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge

with thee.” Horatius,” quoth the consul, “as thou sayest, so

let it be.” And straight against that great array, forth went the

dauntless three. Soon all Etruria's noblest felt their hearts sink to



On the earth the bloody corpses, in the path the

dauntless three. And from the ghastly entrance, where those bold

Romans stood, The bravest shrank like boys who rouse an old bear

in the wood. But meanwhile ax and lever have manfully been

plied, And now the bridge hangs tottering above the boiling

tide. Come back, come back, Horatius !" loud cried the

fathers all :

Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! back, ere the

ruin fall!" Back darted Spurious Lartius; Herminius darted

back; And, as they passed, beneath their feet they felt the

timbers crack; But when they turned their faces, and on the farther

shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, they would have

crossed once more. But, with a crash like thunder, fell every loosened

beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck lay right athwart

the stream. And a long shout of triumph rose from the walls of

Rome, As to the highest turret-tops was splashed the yellow




And, like a horse unbroken, when first he feels the

rein, The furious river struggled hard, and tossed his

tawny mane, And burst the curb, and bounded, rejoicing to be free, And battlement, and plank, and pier whirled headlong

to the sea.

Alone stood brave Horatius, but constant still in




Thrice thirty thousand foes before, and the broad

flood behind. Down with him!” cried false Sextus, with a smile

on his pale face. “Now yield thee!" cried Lars Porsena, “now yield

thee to our grace!”

Round turned he, as not deigning those craven ranks

to see;


Nought spake he to Lars Porsena, to Sextus nought

spake he; But he saw on Palatinus the white porch of his home, And he spoke to the noble river that rolls by the

towers of Rome: “O Tiber! Father Tiber! to whom the Romans

pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, take thou in charge

this day!” So he spake, and, speaking, sheathed the good sword

by his side, And, with his harness on his back, plunged headlong

in the tide.


No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either

bank; But friends and foes, in dumb surprise, stood gazing

where he sank, And when above the surges they saw his crest appear,

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