326 STEVENSON
Had raised an army of the Desert men, And, waiting for his hour, had turned again And fallen on that False Prophet, yet we know GORDON is dead, and these things are not so ! Nay, not for England's cause, nor to restore Her trampled flag for he loved Honour more Nay, not for Life, Revenge, or Victory, Would he have fled, whose hour had dawned to die. He will not come again, whate'er our need, He will not come, who is happy, being freed From the deathly flesh and perishable things, And lies of statesmen and rewards of kings. Nay, somewhere by the sacred River's shore He sleeps like those who shall return no more, No more return for all the prayers of men Arthur and Charles they never come again ! They shall not wake, though fair the vision seem : Whate'er sick Hope may whisper, vain the dream!
Lang.
CXXIII
MOTHER AND SON
IT is not yours, O mother, to complain,
Not, mother, yours to weep,
Though nevermore your son again
Shall to your bosom creep,
Though nevermore again you watch your baby sleep.
Though in the greener paths of earth
Mother and child, no more
We wander; and no more the birth
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