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RIS

ISEST thou thus, dim dawn, again,

so loud with voices of the birds, so thick with lowings of the herds, day, when I lost the flower of men ; who tremblest thro' thy darkling red

on yon swoll'n brook that bubbles fast

by meadows breathing of the past, .
and woodlands holy to the dead ;
who murmurest in the foliaged eaves

a song that slights the coming care,

and Autumn laying here and there
a fiery finger on the leaves ;
who wakenest with thy balmy breath

to myriads on the genial earth

memories of bridal, or of birth, and unto myriads more, of death. O, wheresoever those may be,

betwixt the slumber of the poles,

to-day they count as kindred souls ; they know me not, but mourn with me.

A. TENNYSON

307

IN MEMORIAM

FAIR ship, that from the Italian shore

with my lost Arthur's loved remains, spread thy full wings, and waft him o'er. So draw him home to those that mourn

in vain; a favourable speed

ruffle thy mirror'd mast, and lead thro' prosperous floods his holy urn. All night no ruder air perplex

thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright as our pure love, thro' early light shall glimmer on the dewy decks. Sphere all your lights around, above;

sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow;

sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now, my friend, the brother of my love;

my Arthur, whom I shall not see

till all my widowed race be run:

dear as the mother to the son, more than my brothers are to me.

A. TENNYSON

308

THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE

is ,

that serveth not another's will;
whose armour is his honest thought
and simple truth his utmost skill!
Whose passions not his masters are,
whose soul is still prepared for death,
not tied unto the world with care
of public fame or private breath;
Who envies none that chance doth raise
or vice; who never understood
how deepest wounds are given by praise ;
nor rules of state, but rules of good:
Who hath his life from rumours freed;
whose conscience is his strong retreat ;
whose state can neither flatterers feed,
nor ruin make oppressors great;
-This man is freed from servile bands
of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
lord of himself, though not of lands;
and having nothing, yet hath all.

SIR H. WOTTON

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MY

Y soul, there is a country

afar beyond the stars,
where stands a winged sentry

all skilful in the wars:
There above noise and danger

sweet peace sits crown'd with smiles,
and one born in a manger

commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend,

and (O my Soul awake!) did in pure love descend,

to die here for thy sake.

If thou canst get but thither,

there grows the flower of peace; the rose that cannot wither,

thy fortress and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges;

for none can thee secure, but One, who never changes,

thy God, thy Life, thy Cure.

H. VAUGHAN

310

THE

LOVE'S IMMORTALITY
"HEY sin who tell us Love can die.

With life all other passions fly,
all others are but vanity:
in heaven ambition cannot dwell,
nor avarice in the vaults of hell:
earthly these passions, as of earth,
they perish where they have their birth.
But Love is indestructible;
its holy flame for ever burneth,
from heaven it came, to heaven returneth;
too oft on earth a troubled guest,
at times deceived, at times opprest,
it here is tried and purified,
and hath in heaven its perfect rest:
it soweth here with toil and care,
but the harvest-time of Love is there.
Oh! when a mother meets on high
the babe she lost in infancy,
hath she not then, for pains and fears,
the day of woe, the anxious night,
for all her sorrow, all her tears,
an over-payment of delight !

R. SOUTHEY

KEPLER'S PRAYER

311 O THOU, who by the light of Nature dost enkindle

in us a desire after the light of grace, that by this Thou mayest translate us into the light of glory : I give Thee thanks, O Lord and Creator, that Thou hast gladdened me by Thy Creation, when I was enraptured by the work of Thy hands. Behold, I have completed a work of my calling 'with as much of intellectual strength as Thou hast granted me. I have declared the praise of Thy works to the men who will read the evidences of it, so far as my finite spirit could comprehend them in their infinity. My mind endeavoured to its utmost to reach the truth by philosophy; but if anything unworthy of Thee has been taught by me, a worm born and nourished in sin, do Thou teach me that I may correct it. Have I been seduced into presumption by the admirable beauty of Thy works, or have I sought my own glory amongst men in the construction of a work designed for Thine honour? O then graciously and mercifully forgive me; and finally grant me this favour, that this work may never be injurious; but may conduce to Thy glory and the good of souls.

J. KEPLER

312

STILL LIKE HIS NATIVE STREAM
IN
N glowing youth he stood beside

his native stream, and saw it glide
shewing each gem, beneath its tide,
calm as though nought could break its rest,
reflecting heaven on its breast,
and seeming, in its flow, to be
like candour, peace and piety.
When life began its brilliant dream,
his heart was like his native stream:
the wave-shrined gems could scarcely seem
less hidden than each wish it knew;
its life flowed on as calmly too:
and heaven shielded it from sin,
to see itself reflected in.
He stood beside that stream again,
when years had fled in strife and pain;
he looked for its calm course in vain,-
for storms profaned its peaceful flow,
and clouds o’erhung its crystal brow:
and turning then, he sighed to deem
his heart still like his native stream.

B. W. PROCTER

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Could we (which we never can)
stretch our lives beyond their span;
beauty like a shadow flies,
and our youth before us dies.
Or would youth and beauty stay,
Love hath wings, and will away.
Love hath swifter wings than Time:
change in love to heaven does climb;
gods, that never change their state,
vary oft their love and hate.

Phyllis! to this truth we owe
all the love betwixt us two:
let not you and I enquire,
what has been our past desire:
on what shepherds you have smild,
or what nymphs I have beguild:
leave it to the planets too,
what we shall hereafter do:
for the joys we now may prove,
take advice of present love.

E. WALLER

314

A TIME FOR EVERY THING

CHEN the crab's fierce constellation

WHE
HENs the other

the beams of the bright sun,

then he that will go out to sow
shall never reap where he did plough;
but instead of corn may rather
the old world's diet, acorns gather.
Who the violet doth love,
must seek her in the flowery grove;
but never when the North's cold wind
the russet fields with frost doth bind.
If in the spring-time (to no end)
the tender vine for grapes we bend,
we shall find none, for only still
Autumn doth the wine-press fill.
Thus for all things, in the world's prime,
the wise God seald their proper time,
nor will permit those seasons, he
ordained by turns, should mingled be.
Then, whose wild actions out of season
cross to nature and her reason

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