once good and obedient lift his hand and strike
his father.

The captain divided us into two lots, each
consisting of ten prisoners, chained together
by a common ring. Dressed in our red jackets
and conical caps, we resembled so many
Punches, but instead of being amused by our
appearance, the people appeared saddened and
looked on in silence. Owing to the want of
wind and a contrary tide, it was dark night when
we reached Procida.

                    SIDE BY SIDE.

               FRIEND AND FRIEND.

     MAY we, then, never know each other?
          Who love each other more, I dare
     Affirm for both, than brother brother,
          Aye, more, my friend, than they that are
               The children of one mother.

     A look— and lo, our natures meet!
          A word— our minds make one reply!
     A touch— our hearts have but one beat!
          And, if we walk together— why
               The same thought guides our feet

     The self-same course! The flower that blows
          A scant unguess'd in hedgerow green,
     Slim spiders where the water throws
          The starry-weeded stones between
               Strange light that flits and flows,

     Were charged by some sweet spirit, sure
          (Loves' minister, and ours! ) to strike
     Our sense with one same joy, allure
          Our hearts, and bless us both alike
               With memories that endure.

     True friend! I know you: and I know
          You know me too. And this is well.
     Yet something seems to lie below
          All knowledge, which is hard to tell.
               The world, where hands let go,

     Slips in between. The morsels fine
          That meet so fast and firm to-day,
     Where, yesterday, your heart left mine,
          When our hearts' converse broke away,
               Ah, how will these combine.

     When years have clad them coarse with rust,
          And time hath blunted down the points,
     And earth has dropp'd its daily dust
          Into the sharp and tender joints
               Where loitering swarms will thrust

     Their pregnant eggs? The warmth yet stays,
          Where, twelve safe hours ago, no more,
     Your soul touched mine. But days and days
          Make callous what one day leaves sore,
                Ichoring the wound they graze.

     Not ours the change, if change must fall,
          Nor yours the fault, nor mine, my friend!
     Life's love will last: but not love's small
          Sweet hourly lives. That these should end
                It grieves me. That is all.

     This is time's curse. Since life began
          It hath been losing love too fast.
     And I would keep, while yet I can,
          Man's faith in love, lest at the last
               I lose love's faith in man.

     But something sighs, " Be satisfied,
          " Ye know no more than ye can know."
     And walking, talking side by side,
          It sometimes seems to me as tho'
               Love did to love provide

     (How shall I say?) a man, in fine,
          A ghostly Third, who is, indeed,
     Not you nor I, tho' yours and mine;
          The creature of our mutual need,
               The friend for whom we pine.

     You call him Me: I call him You:
          Who is not either you nor me:
     This phantom friend! who, if we knew
          What I divine, would prove to be
               Mere product of us two.

     The man that each in each hath sought,
          And each within himself hath found:
     The being of our separate thoughts
          To each by his own nature bound,
               From his own nature wrought,

     Heed well our friend, while yet we may!
          There are so many winds about,
     And any wind may blow away
          Love's airy child. never doubt
               He is the common prey

     Of every chance, while love remains:
          And every chance which he survives
     Is something added to love's gains.
          Comfort our friend whilst yet he lives!
               Dead, what shall pay our pains?

     If cold should kill his heart at last,
          Regret will idly muse, and think
     In at what window blew the blast?
          Or how we might have stopp'd that chink.
               What mends a moment past?

                 MAN AND WIFE.

     Nay, Sweet! no thought, not any thought,
          At least not any thought of you,
     But what must thank dear love. Nor aught
          Of love's mistrust between us two
     Can ever creep. Thank God, we keep
          Too close to let thin doubts slip thro'

     And leave a scar where they divide
          Hearts meant by Heaven to hold together.
     So, soul by soul, as side by side,
          We sit. Thought wanders hither, thither,
     From star to star, yet not so far
          But what, at end of all its tether,

     It feels the beating of your heart,
          To which mine bound it long ago.
     Our love is perfect, every part,
          Love's utmost, reach'd at last, must so
     Henceforth abide. And, if I sigh'd
          Just now, I scarcely wish to know

     The reason why. Who feels love's best
          Must feel love's best can be no more.
     We see the bound, no longer guess'd,
          But fix'd for ever. Lo, the shore!
     On either hand, 'twixt sea and laud,
          How clear and fine does sight explore

     That long-drawn self-determined line
          Of difference traced! My Own, forgive
     That, sitting thus, your hand in mine,
          Glad that dear God doth let us live
     So close, my Own, so almost one,
          A thought that wrongs repose should strive