s the weeping infant for the breast.
And here with aliens thou didst choose to dwell,
Year in, year out, in deepest sympathy;
And here thou buildest thee an holy cell;
And so the peaceful years went gliding by.
But ah! what living thing mote yet avoid
Death's dreary summons?--And thine hour did sound
When all the friends on whom thine heart relied
Slept on strange pillows on the mossy ground.
So, while the moon lit up Kasuga's crest,
O'er Sahogaha's flood thy corse they bore
To fill a tomb upon yon mountain's breast,
And dwell in darkness drear for evermore.
No words, alas! nor efforts can avail:--
Nought can I do, poor solitary child!
Nought can I do but make my bitter wail,
And pace the room with cries and gestures wild,
Ceaselessly weeping, till my snowy sleeve
Is wet with tears. Who knows? Perchance, again
Wafted, they're borne upon the sighs I heave,
On 'Arima's far distant heights to rain.

_Sakanouhe_.

ON THE POET'S SON FURUBI

Sev'n are the treasures mortals most do prize,
But I regard them not:--
One only jewel could delight mine eyes--
The child that I begot.

My darling boy, who with the morning sun
Began his joyous day;
Nor ever left me, but with child-like fun
Would make me help him play;

Who'd take my hand when eve its shadows spread,
Saying, "I'm sleepy grown;
'Twixt thee and mother I would lay my head:--
Oh! leave me not alone!"

Then with his pretty prattle in mine ears,
I'd lie awake and scan
The good and evil of the coming years,
And see the child a man.

And, as the seaman trusts his bark, I'd trust
That nought could harm the boy:--
Alas! I wist not that the whirling gust
Would shipwreck all my joy!

Then with despairing, helpless hands I grasp'd
The sacred mirror's[147] sphere;
And round my shoulder I my garments clasp'd,
And prayed with many a tear:--

"'Tis yours, great gods, that dwell in heav'n on high,
Great gods of earth! 'tis yours
To heed, or heed not, a poor father's cry,
Who worships and implores!"

Alas! vain pray'rs, that more no more avail!
He languished day by day,
Till e'en his infant speech began to fail,
And life soon ebbed away.

Stagg'ring with grief I strike my sobbing breast,