Holds earth aught — speak truth — above her?

Aught like this tress, see, and this tress, And this last fairest tress of all,

So fair, see, ere I let it fall?

II.

Because, you spend your lives in praising;
To praise, you search the wide world over:
Then why not witness, calmly gazing,

speak truth—above her?

If earth holds aught
Above this tress, and this, I touch
But cannot praise, I love so much!

VI.

Be a god and hold me
With a charm!

Be a man and fold me

With thine arm!

VII.

Teach me, only teach, Love!
As I ought

I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought-

VIII.

Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.

IX.

That shall be to-morrow,

Not to-night:

I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:

X.

Must a little weep, Love,

(Foolish me!)

And so fall asleep, Love,

Loved by thee.

EVELYN HOPE.

I.

Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead!

Sit and watch by her side an hour.
That is her book-shelf, this her bed;
She plucked that piece of geranium-flower,
Beginning to die too, in the glass;

Little has yet been changed, I think :
The shutters are shut, no light may pass

Save two long rays through the hinge's chink.

II.

Sixteen years old when she died!
Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name;
It was not her time to love; beside,
Her life had many a hope and aim,
Duties enough and little cares,

And now was quiet, now astir,

--

Till God's hand beckoned unawares,
And the sweet white brow is all of her.

III.

Is it too late then, Evelyn Hope?
What, your soul was pure and true,
The good stars met in your horoscope,
Made you of spirit, fire and dew
And, just because I was thrice as old

And our paths in the world diverged so wide,
Each was nought to each, must I be told?
We were fellow mortals, nought beside?

IV.

No, indeed for God above

Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love:

I claim you still, for my own love's sake! Delayed it may be for more lives yet,

Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few: Much is to learn, much to forget

Ere the time be come for taking you.

V.

-

But the time will come, at last it will,
When, Evelyn Hope, what meant (I shall say)
In the lower earth, in the years long still,
That body and soul so pure and gay?
Why your hair was amber, I shall divine,

And your mouth of your own geranium's redAnd what you would do with me, in fine,

In the new life come in the old one's stead.

VI.

I have lived (I shall say) so much since then,
Given up myself so many times,

Gained me the gains of various men,

Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes;

Yet one thing, one, in my soul's full scope,
Either I missed or itself missed me:
And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope!
What is the issue? let us see!

VII.

I loved you, Evelyn, all the while!

My heart seemed full as it could hold; There was place and to spare for the frank

young smile, And the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold. So, hush, I will give you this leaf to keep:

See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand!

There, that is our secret: go to sleep!

You will wake, and remember, and understand.

LOVE AMONG THE RUINS.

I.

Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles
Miles and miles

On the solitary pastures where our sheep

Half-asleep

Tinkle homeward through the twilight, stray or stop
As they crop-

Was the site once of a city great and gay,

(So they say)

Of our country's very capital, its prince
Ages since

Held his court in, gathered councils, wielding far
Peace or war.

Now,

II.

the country does not even boast a tree, As you see,

To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills

From the hills

Intersect and give a name to, (else they run

Into one,)

Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires

Up like fires

O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall

Bounding all,

Made of marble, men might march on nor be pressed, Twelve abreast.

III.

And such plenty and perfection, see, of grass

Never was!

Such a carpet as, this summer-time, o'erspreads
And embeds

Every vestige of the city, guessed alone,

Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe
Long ago;

Lust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame
Struck them tame;

And that glory and that shame alike, the gold

Now,

Bought and sold.

IV.

the single little turret that remains On the plains,

By the caper overrooted, by the gourd

Overscored,

While the patching houseleek's head of blossom winks
Through the chinks

Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time
Sprang sublime,

And a burning ring, all round, the chariots traced
As they raced,

And the monarch and his minions and his dames
Viewed the games.

V.

And I know, while thus the quiet-colored eve
Smiles to leave

To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece
In such peace,

And the slopes and rills in undistinguished gray

Melt away

That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair

Waits me there

In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul

For the goal,

When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb

Till I come.

VI.

But he looked upon the city, every side,

Far and wide,