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THAT second time they hunted me

| From hill to plain, from shore to sea, And Austria, hounding far and wide Her blood-hounds thro' the country-side, Breathed hot and instant on my trace,I made six days a hiding-place Of that dry green old aqueduct Where I and Charles, when boys, ha The fire-flies from the roof above, Bright creeping thro' the moss they love: -How long it seems since Charles was lost! Six days the soldiers crossed and crossed The country in my very sight; And when that peril ceased at night, The sky broke out in red dismay With signal fires; well, there I lay Close covered o'er in my recess, Up to the neck in ferns and cress, Thinking on Metternich our friend, And Charles's miserable end, And much beside, two days; the third, Hunger o'ercame me when I heard The peasants from the village go To work among the maize; you know, With us in Lombardy, they bring Provisions packed on mules, a string With little bells that cheer their task, And casks, and boughs on every cask To keep the sun's heat from the wine; These I let pass in jingling line, And, close on them, dear noisy crew, The peasants from the village, too; For at the very rear would troop Their wives and sisters in a group To help, I knew. When these had passed, I threw my glove to strike the last,

Taking the chance: she did not start,
Much less cry out, but stooped apart,
One instant rapidly glanced round,
And saw me beckon from the ground.
A wild bush grows and hides my crypt;
She picked my glove up while she stripped
A branch off, then rejoined the rest
With that; my glove lay in her breast.
Then I drew breath; they disappeared:
It was for Italy I feared.”

An hour, and she returned alone Exactly where my glove was thrown. Meanwhile came many thoughts: on me Rested the hopes of Italy. I had devised a certain tale Which, when 'twas told her, could not fail Persuade a peasant of its truth; I meant to call a freak of youth This hiding, and give hopes of pay, And no temptation to betray. But when I saw that woman's face, Its calm simplicity of grace, Our Italy's own attitude In which she walked thus far, and stood, Planting each naked foot so firm, To crush the snake and spare the wormAt first sight of her eyes, I said, “I am that man upon whose head “They fix the price, because I hate “The Austrians over us: the State “Will give you gold-oh, gold so much!“If you betray me to their clutch, “And be your death, for aught I know, “If once they find you saved their foe. Now, you must bring me food and drink, “ And also paper, pen and ink, And carry safe what I shall write

“To Padua, which you'll reach at night “Before the duomo shuts; go in, “And wait till Tenebræ begin; “Walk to the third confessional, “ Between the pillar and the wall, “And kneeling whisper, Whence comes peace? “Say it a second time, then cease; “And if the voice inside returns, From Christ and Freedom; what concerns The cause of Peace-for answer, slip “My letter where you placed your lip; “Then come back happy we have done “Our mother service-1, the son, “As you the daughter of our land!"

Three mornings more, she took her stand
In the same place, with the same eyes:
I was no surer of sun-rise
Than of her coming. We conferred
Of her own prospects, and I heard
She had a lover-stout and tall,
She said then let her eyelids fall,
“He could do much"-as if some doubt
Entered her heart,—then, passing out,
“She could not speak for others, who
“Had other thoughts; herself she knew:”
And so she brought me drink and food.
After four days, the scouts pursued
Another path; at last arrived
The help my Paduan friends contrived
To furnish me: she brought the news.
For the first time I could not choose
But kiss her hand, and lay my own
Upon her head—“This faith was shown
To Italy, our mother; she
“Uses my hand and blesses thee."
She followed down to the sea-shore;
I left and never saw her more.

Had other not speak fonpassing on

How very long since I have thought
Concerning much less wished for-aught
Beside the good of Italy,
For which I live and mean to die!
I never was in love; and since
Charles proved false, what shall now convince
My inmost heart I have a friend?
However, if I pleased to spend
Real wishes on myself—say, three-
I know at least what one should be.
I would grasp Metternich until
I felt his red wet throat distil
In blood thro' these two hands. And next,
-Nor much for that am I perplexed-
Charles, perjured traitor, for his part,
Should die slow of a broken heart
Under his new employers. Last

-Ah, there, what should I wish? For fast
Do I grow old and out of strength.
If I resolved to seek at length
My father's house again, how scared
They all would look, and unprepared!
My brothers live in Austria's pay
--Disowned me long ago, men say;
And all my early mates who used
To praise me so—perhaps induced
More than one early step of mine-
Are turning wise: while some opine
“Freedom grows license,” some suspect
"Haste breeds delay," and recollect
They always said, such premature
Beginnings never could endure!
So, with a sullen “All's for best,"
The land seems settling to its rest.
I think then, I should wish to stand
This evening in that dear, lost land,
Over the sea the thousand miles,
And know if yet that woman smiles

With the calm smile: some little farm
She lives in there, no doubt: what harm
If I sat on the door-side bench
And, while her spindle made a trench
Fantastically in the dust,
Inquired of all her fortunes-just
Her children's ages and their names,
And what may be the husband's aims
For each of them. I'd talk this out,
And sit there, for an hour about,
Then kiss her hand once more, and lay
Mine on her head, and go my way.

So much for idle wishing—how
It steals the time! To business now.


Piano di Sorrento
TORTÙ, Fortù, my beloved one,
T Sit here by my side,
On my knees put up both little feet!

I was sure, if I tried,
I could make you laugh spite of Scirocco.

Now, open your eyes,
Let me keep you amused till he vanish

In black from the skies,
With telling my memories over

As you tell your beads;
All the Þlain saw me gather, I garland

-The flowers or the weeds.

Time for rain! for your long hot dry Autumn

Had net-worked with brown

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