Chapter XI

Name and deed alike are lost. 125
Not a pillar nor a post
In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell;
Not a head in white and black
On a single fishing smack,
In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack 130
All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell.
Go to Paris: rank on rank
Search the heroes flung pell-mell
On the Louvre, face and flank!
You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel. 135
So, for better and for worse,
Hervé Riel, accept my verse!
In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more
Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife, the Belle Aurore!

"GOOD, TO FORGIVE"

Good, to forgive;
Best, to forget!
Living, we fret;
Dying, we live.
Fretless and free, 5
Soul, clap thy pinion!
Earth have dominion,
Body, o'er thee!

Wander at will,
Day after day-- 10
Wander away,
Wandering still--
Soul that canst soar!
Body may slumber:
Body shall cumber 15
Soul-flight no more.

Waft of soul's wing!
What lies above?
Sunshine and Love,
Skyblue and Spring! 20
Body hides--where?
Ferns of all feather,
Mosses and heather.
Yours be the care!

"SUCH A STARVED BANK OF MOSS"

Such a starved bank of moss
Till, that May-morn,
Blue ran the flash across:
Violets were born!

Sky--what a scowl of cloud 5
Till, near and far,
Ray on ray split the shroud:
Splendid, a star!

World--how it walled about
Life with disgrace 10
Till God's own smile came out:
That was thy face!