Fire!

"Away there, to the east--

"Towards the Surrey ridge,--

"I see a puff of dunnish smoke

"Over the Southwark Bridge:"--

A single curl of murky mist

That scales the summer air:

And the watchman wound his listless way

Slow down the turret stair.

London! that deck'st thyself with wave-won spoils,

Sea-gather d wealth--Spires, palaces,

And temples high;

Well might thy goodly burgesses exclaim

"See this--and die! *--

"See these great streets; survey these monster marts;

"The lordly'Changes of our merchant kings;--

"Behold this Thames, with all its flutt'ring breast

"Brave with white wings.--

"Wharves, stately with warehouses--

"Docks, with a world's treasure-chest in bail--

"What hand shall touch ye?

"What rash foe assail?"

"Fire! to the eastward--Fire!

A hurrying tramp of feet,--

A sickly haze that wraps the town

Like a leaden winding-sheet,--

A smothering smoke is in the air--

A crackling sound--a cry!--

And yonder, up over the furnace pot

That smokes like the smoke of the Cities of Lot,

There's something fierce and hissing and hot

That licks the very sky!

* The Italians have a proverb, "See Naples, and die"

Fire! fire! ghastly fire!

It broadens overhead;

Red gleam the roofs in lurid light

The Heav'ns are glowing-red.

From east to west--from west to east!--

Red runs the turbid Thames--

"Fire! fire! the engines! fire!

"Or half the town's in flames--

"Fire------"

A raging, quivering gulf...

A wild stream, blazing by...

Red ruin... fearful flaming leaps...

White faces to the sky....

"The engines, Ho! back for your lives!"

And out the Firemen dash'd;

"Stand clear in front! room, townsmen, room!"--

Like lightning thro' the gath'ring gloom

The swarthy helmets flash'd:

Stand from the causeway--Horse and Man!--

Back, while there's time for aid--

Back, gilded coach!--back, lordly steed S--

There's fear and fate hangs on their speed,

And life and death and daring deed,

Room for the Fire Brigade!

COUNT CABOUR.

In Memoriam.

Weep, Italy, weep!

For the sun of thy dawning,

Now set in midday:

For the flower of thy morning,

In bloom pass'd away.

On his brow be the laurel,

Fame's smile on his sleep,--

But weep for thy Hero,

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy, weep!

For thy great one departed--

The eloquent breath:

For the strong, the high hearted,

Now silent in death.

For the lion-like courage;

The eye of the lynx;

The wisdom that baffled

The Gallican sphinx;

That humbled the pride

Of the priesthood of Rome;

Thy falchion abroad,

And thy buckler at home;

In whose life thou wert first,

And the last on whose lip,--

For thy Patriot--Statesman--

Weep, Italy, weep!

Weep, Italy! weep--

And the loud cannon's rattle

Make mourn for the brave--

For the light of thy battle,

Cold-quench'd in the grave!

For the daring that conquer'd

By Mincio's flood;

That wiped out each slave-stain

In Austrian blood;

That swept the red eagle

From Gaeta's steep,--

For his Country's Avenger

Let Italy weep!

Yes, Italy! weep!

For the arm that has righted

Thy wrongs and thy shame;

For the hand that has lighted

Bright Liberty's flame:

That took from thee--Scorning!

That left thee--Renown!

Thy long scatter'd jewels

Gave back to thy crown,--

That nerved thee to conquer,

That taught thee to keep,

For the man that has saved thee

Weep, Italy, weep!