But when the moon deg. their hollows lights, deg.7
And they are swept by balms of spring,
And in their glens, on starry nights,
The nightingales divinely sing; 10
And lovely notes, from shore to shore,
Across the sounds and channels pour—­

Oh! then a longing like despair
Is to their farthest caverns sent;
For surely once, they feel, we were 15
Parts of a single continent! 
Now round us spreads the watery plain—­
Oh might our marges meet again!

Who order’d, that their longing’s fire
Should be, as soon as kindled, cool’d? 20
Who renders vain their deep desire?—­
A God, a God their severance ruled! 
And bade betwixt their shores to be
The unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea. deg. deg.24

KAISER DEAD deg.

April 6, 1887

What, Kaiser dead?  The heavy news
Post-haste to Cobham deg. calls the Muse, deg.2
From where in Farringford deg. she brews deg.3
    The ode sublime,
Or with Pen-bryn’s bold bard deg. pursues deg.5
    A rival rhyme.

Kai’s bracelet tail, Kai’s busy feet,
Were known to all the village-street. 
“What, poor Kai dead?” say all I meet;
    “A loss indeed!” 10
O for the croon pathetic, sweet,
    Of Robin’s reed deg.! deg.12

Six years ago I brought him down,
A baby dog, from London town;
Round his small throat of black and brown 15
    A ribbon blue,
And vouch’d by glorious renown
    A dachshound true.

His mother, most majestic dame,
Of blood-unmix’d, from Potsdam deg. came; deg.20
And Kaiser’s race we deem’d the same—­
    No lineage higher. 
And so he bore the imperial name. 
    But ah, his sire!

Soon, soon the days conviction bring. 25
The collie hair, the collie swing,
The tail’s indomitable ring,
    The eye’s unrest—­
The case was clear; a mongrel thing
    Kai stood confest. 30

But all those virtues, which commend
The humbler sort who serve and tend,
Were thine in store, thou faithful friend. 
    What sense, what cheer! 
To us, declining tow’rds our end, 35
    A mate how dear!

For Max, thy brother-dog, began
To flag, and feel his narrowing span. 
And cold, besides, his blue blood ran,
    Since, ’gainst the classes, 40
He heard, of late, the Grand Old Man deg. deg.41
    Incite the masses.