[2] In architecture, a series of piles to defend the pier of a bridge. VI ALCAICS TO HORATIO F. BROWN Brave lads in olden musical centuries, Sang, night by night, adorable choruses, Sat late by alehouse doors in April Chaunting in joy as the moon was rising: Moon-seen and merry, under the trellises, Flush-faced they played with old polysyllables; Spring scents inspired, old wine diluted; Love and Apollo were there to chorus. Now these, the songs, remain to eternity, Those, only those, the bountiful choristers Gone--those are gone, those unremembered Sleep and are silent in earth for ever. So man himself appears and evanishes, So smiles and goes; as wanderers halting at Some green-embowered house, play their music, Play and are gone on the windy highway; Yet dwells the strain enshrined in the memory Long after they departed eternally, Forth-faring tow'rd far mountain summits, Cities of men on the sounding Ocean. Youth sang the song in years immemorial; Brave chanticleer, he sang and was beautiful; Bird-haunted, green tree-tops in springtime Heard and were pleased by the voice of singing; Youth goes, and leaves behind him a prodigy-- Songs sent by thee afar from Venetian Sea-grey lagunes, sea-paven highways, Dear to me here in my Alpine exile. DAVOS, _Spring 1881_. VII A LYTLE JAPE OF TUSHERIE _By A. Tusher_ The pleasant river gushes Among the meadows green; At home the author tushes; For him it flows unseen. The Birds among the Bushes May wanton on the spray; But vain for him who tushes The brightness of the day! The frog among the rushes Sits singing in the blue. By 'r la'kin! but these tushes Are wearisome to do! The task entirely crushes The spirit of the bard: God pity him who tushes-- His task is very hard. The filthy gutter slushes, The clouds are full of rain, But doomed is he who tushes To tush and tush again. At morn with his hair-brushes, Still "tush" he says and weeps; At night again he tushes, And tushes till he sleeps. And when at length he pushes Beyond the river dark-- 'Las, to the man who tushes, "Tush" shall be God's remark! HYERES, _May 1883_. VIII TO VIRGIL AND DORA WILLIAMS Here, from the forelands of the tideless sea, Behold and take my offering unadorned. In the Pacific air it sprang; it grew Among the silence of the Alpine air; In Scottish heather blossomed; and at last By that unshapen sapphire, in whose face Spain, Italy, France, Algiers, and Tunis view Their introverted mountains, came to fruit. Back now, my Booklet! on the diving ship, And posting on the rails, to home return,-- Home, and the friends whose honouring name you bear. HYERES, 1883. IX BURLESQUE SONNET TO AENEAS WILLIAM MACKINTOSH