Louis sniff the frying yams,
Venison, and turtle,--
The old green turtle died tonight--
The children's eyes grow wider on the stairs.
Down in the library,
The Marquis, writing back to old Auvergne,
Has sanded down the ink;
Again the quill pen squeaks:
"A ship will sail tomorrow back to France,
By special providence for you, dear wife;
Tonight there will be toasts to Washington,
To our good Louis and his Antoinette--
There will be toasts tonight for la Fayette...."
He melts the wax;
Look, how the candle gutters at the flame!
And now he seals the letter with his ring.
H.A.
[4] See the note at the back of the book.
THE PRIEST AND THE PIRATE[5]
A BALLAD OF THEODOSIA BURR
And must the old priest wake with fright
Because the wind is high tonight?
Because the yellow moonlight dead
Lies silent as a word unsaid--
What dreams had he upon his bed?
_Listen_--the storm!
The winter moon scuds high and bare;
Her light is old upon his hair;
The gray priest muses in a prayer:
"Christ Jesus, when I come to die
Grant me a clean, sweet, summer sky,
Without the mad wind's panther cry.
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