Which, from the birth of time hath moved apart

Over thy moon-ruled waters;-O release

From sorrow's selfishness my aching soul,

And with thy healing chant my broken heart make whole!

Thou who didst take wild Sappho to thy breast,
And smooth her glorious hair to maiden meekness,
And kiss her cool, pale lids to lovely rest,

Surely unto her handmaids, strong with weakness
To crave of thee surcease, thou wouldst be kind—
Yea, to the least of them, even unto me—
O sure Magician of tired souls and blind?
Lo, I can feel thee drawing me to thee
Even as thyself art by Sélené drawn,
The while fair Tethys, with the certain smile
Of wives and goddesses, reigns calmly on
O'er all but thy vast tides. A weary while,
A weary while have I been caged of fate;
Free now my ready soul, ere freedom be too late!

My heart, O Sea! my heart too hath its tides,
Its moods of rage, its calms, its storms again;
Its ice-bound regions where no life abides,
Its snow-fields where a rose would seem a stain;
Its caverns deep, more murmurous musical
Than shells that in their dreaming sing of thee;
Its wrecks majestic, and its towers tall
Of moon-white castles built for ecstasy,
But turned by time to echoing tombs forlorn,
Where many a drownèd hope doth lie in state.
Lo! these are mine too; but that jubilant scorn,
That blithe disdain of ever-changing fate,
Which thou by very mutability

Dost manifest to all-that would I learn of thee!

Thou terrible, thou beautiful, thou free!
Soother of woes unsoothèd else! Desire
Of desolate poet-souls! To thee, to thee,
To thee alone I cry! O lift me higher!

O toss me starward as I were thy spray!
Into my empty life, as 'twere a shell,
Breathe thou thy mystic monody, and lay
Upon my heart thy deep, eternal spell!

For lo! thy pain supreme is like to mine!

Heavenward thou yearnest and must yearn for aye,
And even as the Lady Moon divine

Over thy passionate surge holds gentle sway,
O may my soul's tides ever rulèd be,

By the pure golden sphere of Love's high mystery!

FAITH

From "

Grief and Faith," Harper's Magazine, May, 1887, and used here by permission of the publishers.

So be it, then, beloved. I can bear all,

His grace

Knowing that thou art only gone a space;
That some day I shall look upon thy face,
And grief be lifted from me like a pall.
God, who hath let thee answer my mad call,
Hath shown me mercy past belief.
And comfort, at all times, in every place,
I do petition, therefore, lest I fall,
Borne down by mine own spirit. Dearest, sleep;
Sleep till my soul doth bid thy soul awake.
Dream I am happy. Know not that I weep.
Rest utterly; and I, for thy sweet sake,
Will try to live as thou didst, that the deep
Of death may bear me to thee, as a lake
Doth bear a shattered vessel to the shore.

Yea, sleep, my darling, and may blessèd dreams
Make for thee life of death. To me all seems
A conscious death disturbed by life's fierce roar,
A torture and a burden evermore.

Existence's ocean hath for me no gleams
Such as greet other men beneath the beams
Of hope's fair sunrise. All that went before:
Like a bright bird that heralds some proud ship

With sunlight on its breast and on its wings.

Now Sorrow, following on black clouds that dip
Unto the blacker billows, with her brings
Despair and Loss, like lovers lip to lip.

And smites the blithe bird even while he sings.
But I will try to live as thou hast said-

To bear this burden bravely, as a man
Should bear all burdens. Yea, I will and can
Grow worthier of thee, O most precious dead,
And forcing back such tears as are unshed,
Remember that dark life is but a span,

While bright love is eternal. Lo! the plan
On which all systems move, what man hath read?
Being thus ignorant, what man would dare

To change one line an atom-were the power
Bestowed upon him—or to move one hair

The little sphere? Hath any seen a flower Bepaint her tender leaves, or learned the fair, Exquisite secret of the Spring? The hour Hath come when grief-tried faith must live or die. And hope be slain or cherished. Most dread God, Being her God, Thou shalt be mine. Thy rod I wordless will endure, that by-and-by,

Hearkening unto my spirit's utmost cry,

Thou wilt grant that I tread where she hath trod,
Leaving this anguish underneath the sod

Which shall o'erspread our bodies, while on high
Her soul shall be as wife unto my soul.

Darling, once more, farewell! I will do all
That thou hast asked, and more. These bells that toll
Thy body's death, lifting the awful pall

Of doubt from my quick spirit, make it whole,

And faith shall answer when thy God doth call.

WILLIAM CABELL RIVES

[1793-1868]

JOSEPH W. EVERETT

ILLIAM CABELL RIVES, statesman, diplomatist, and historian, was born in Nelson County, Virginia, May 4, 1793. received an excellent education at Hampden-Sidney and at William and Mary Colleges, and after graduation had the rare privilege of studying law and politics under Thomas Jefferson. Like so many young Virginians of his day, he early turned his attention to public life, and for nearly fifty years played a brilliant and conspicuous part in the affairs of State and Nation.

He possessed a mind of rare scope and power. His constructive faculties were of the first order; his temperament was calm and judicial; his penetration profound, and his powers of analysis and argument were strongly and acutely developed. From the noted Cabell family he inherited a love of letters and statecraft; from the substantial blood of the Riveses he acquired strength of purpose, industry, and executive ability. In bearing he was courtly and dignified; in personal appearance, extraordinarily handsome. Coupled with these native powers and graces were the pleasing advantages of birth and position, and of unexcelled social surroundings. As preceptors he had Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe; as neighbors and political associates, the Randolphs, Pages, Carters, Cabells, Nelsons, Lewises, Walkers, and Gilmers. He lived in the golden age of Virginia's supremacy, when her sons held easy premiership in the social, political, and military destinies of the nation.

From

His entry into the field of politics was most auspicious. the curricula of his Virginia colleges he brought a liberal education, and from the brain of the great Jefferson he had learned not only the science of government but the strategy of politics as well. He was equipped for both the forum and the field of statecraft. In further aid of his ambitions, he was a Democrat, when Democracy— fresh from the hands of its creator-was regnant and destined to supremacy for a quarter of a century. Nor were these fortunate circumstances the only ones to his credit. The young Republic had but recently been launched; the harbor bars were scarcely out of sight, and the hour of test had arrived-the hour when her new machinery was to bear the brunt of violent and continued storms. Rough seas were already sweeping across her decks, and from all

quarters came insistent demands for trained service. Nor were the rewards incommensurate with the dangers.

At this critical yet potential moment young Rives began his political career. It was long, brilliant, and successful. Lack of space forbids all save the barest recital of its progress, yet the mere outlines will sufficiently indicate its scope and character. From 1814 to 1863 he served successively as aide-de-camp to General John H. Cocke of Virginia (1814-'15); Member of the Virginia Constitutional Convention (1816); Member of the Virginia Legislature (1817-'19); Presidential Elector (1821); Member of the Virginia Legislature (1822-23); Representative in Congress (1823-'29); United States Minister to France (1829-'32); United States Senator (1832-34, 1836-39, 1841-'45); United States Minister to France, the second time (1849-'53); delegate to the Peace Congress (1861); and member of the first and second provisional Confederate Congresses (1861'63)

In this brief synopsis a score of points are worthy of extended notice, but only one or two can be mentioned. While Minister to France Mr. Rives negotiated the Indemnity Treaty of 1831. In 1824 he resigned his seat in the United States Senate because of his unwillingness to join his colleagues in censuring the course of President Jackson for removing the National Bank deposits. The Virginia Legislature desired the vote of censure passed, but Mr. Rives remained firm, and yielded up his seat in consequence. At another period of his Congressional life, he changed his political affiliations. (from sincere motives) and thereby lost, as his friends confidently affirmed, the nomination for the Presidency of the United States. It was at this time that, in a brilliant speech defending his course, he exclaimed: "I know full well, Mr. President, that in taking this course I am to incur the anathemas of party, but I cannot forget that I have a country to serve as well as a party to obey." He opposed secession, yet when Virginia severed her connection with the Union, he served her and the South in the first and second Congresses of the Confederacy.

His career as a diplomat was notably successful. He not only conducted the affairs of his country with signal ability, but became exceedingly popular at the French Court-so much so, in fact, that Queen Amélie stood as godmother for his eldest daughter, and, with rare graciousness, conferred her own name upon the little American.

Mr. Rives's fame, however, rests upon his political career. His speeches in Congress display the finest powers of his genius-his profound depth of mind, his logical reasoning faculties, his broad. culture, and his rare grasp of difficult and involved constitutional questions. The times and the man were well met. The Congressional