at warm hearts on your marble beat,
With many a prayer unanswered?"
My comrades laughed and passed. I said,
"If in those lands you wander still,
In spirit, God, and work your will,"
I whispered in the marble ear
So low--because the walls might hear--
The painted lips they smiled at me--
"O guard my love, where'er he be."

A FRIEND IN NEED

Who has room for a friend
Who has money to spend,
And a goblet of gold
For your fingers to hold,
At the wave of whose hand
Leap the salmon to land,
Drop the birds of the air,
Fall the stag and the hare.
Who has room for a friend
Who has money to lend?
We have room for a friend!

Who has room for a friend
Who has nothing to lend,
When the goblet of gold
Is as far from his hold
As the fleet-footed hare,
Or the birds of the air.
Who has room for a friend
Who has nothing to spend?
We know not such a friend.

IN A WOOD

Hush, 'tis thy voice!
No, but a bird upon the bough
Romancing to its mate, but where art thou
To bid my heart rejoice?

'Tis thy hand, speak!
No, but the branches striking in the wind
Let loose a withered leaf that falls behind
Blown to my cheek.

Hush, thy footfall!
No, 'tis a streamlet hidden in the fern,
Thus from dawn to dark I wait, I learn
Sorrow is all.

A VAGRANT HEART

O to be a woman! to be left to pique and pine,
When the winds are out and calling to this vagrant heart of mine.
Whisht! it whistles at the windows, and how can I be still?
There! the last leaves of the beech-tree go dancing down the hill.
All the boats at anchor they are plunging to be free--
O to be a sailor, and away across the sea!
When the sky is black with thunder, and the sea is white with foam,
The gray-gulls whirl up shrieking and seek their rocky home,
Low his boat is lying leeward, how she runs upon the gale,
As she rises with the billows, nor shakes her dripping sail.
There is danger on the waters--there is joy where dangers be--
Alas! to be a woman and the nomad's heart in me.

Ochone! to be a woman, only sighing on the shore--
With a soul that finds a passion for each long breaker's roar,
With a heart that beats as restless as all the winds that blow--
Thrust a cloth between her fingers, and tell her she must sew;
Must join in empty chatter, and calc