Nor, though the sun of day be shrouded quite,

Swerve from the narrow path to left or right.

ON THE HILL-SIDE.

And self to take or leave is free,
Feeling its own sufficiency:
In spite of science, spite of fate,
The judge within thee, soon or late,
Will blame but thee, O man!

sigh,

He

-

Should bear the blame who fash ioned me

Call you mere change of motive choice ?".

Scorning such pleas, the inner voice Cries, "Thine the deed, O man!"

FAREWELL.

THOU goest: to what distant place Wilt thou thy sunlight carry? I stay with cold and clouded face:

How long am I to tarry? Where'er thou goest, morn will be: Thou leavest night and gloom to me.

The night and gloom I can but take I do not grudge thy splendor: Bid souls of eager men awake;

Be kind and bright and tender. Give day to other worlds; for me It must suffice to dream of thee.

NEW LIFE, NEW LOVE.

APRIL is in;
New loves begin!
Up, lovers all,
The cuckoos call!
Winter is by,

Blue shines the sky,
Primroses blow
Where lay cold snow:
Then why should I
Sit still and sigh?

Death took my dear:
Oh, pain! Oh, fear!
I know not whither,
When flowers did wither,
My summer love
Flew far above.

Now must I find
One to my mind:
The world is wide;
Spring fields are pied
With flowers for thee,
New love, and me!

April is in:
New loves begin!
Up, lovers all,

The cuckoos call!

FROM FRIEND TO FRIEND.

DEAR friend, I know not if such days and nights

Of fervent comradeship as we have spent,

Or if twin minds with equal ardor bent

To search the world's unspeakable delights,

Or if long hours passed on Parnassian heights

Together in rapt interminglement Of heart with heart on thought sublime intent,

Or if the spark of heaven-born fire that lights

Love in both breasts from boyhood, thus have wrought

Our spirits to communion; but I

The world-old sanctities of human love, Shall haunt our waking thoughts, and gathering grace

Incorporate itself with every phase Whereby the soul aspires to God above.

Thus are we wedded through that face to her

Or him who bears it; nay, one fleeting glance.

Fraught with a tale too deep for utterance,

Even as a pebble cast into the sea, Will on the deep waves of our spirit stir

Ripples that run through all eternity.

[From The Alps and Italy.]
SELF.

'TIS self whereby we suffer; 'tis the greed

To grasp, the hunger to assimilate All that earth holds of fair and delicate,

The lust to blend with beauteous lives, to feed

And take our fill of loveliness, which

O,

breed

This anguish of the soul intempe

rate;

'Tis self that turns to pain and poisonous hate

The calm clear life of love the angels lead.

that 'twere possible this self to

burn

In the pure flames of joy contemplative!

THE PRAYER TO MNEMOS YNE.

LADY, when first the message came

to me

Of thy great hope and all thy future bliss,

I had no envy of that happiness Which sets a limit to our joy in thee: But uttering orisons to gods who see Our mortal strife, and bidding them to bless

To him who else were lonely, that another

Of the great family is near, and feels.

ON THE RECEPTION OF WORDSWORTH AT OXFORD.

OH!

never did a mighty truth prevail

With such felicities of place and time

As in those shouts sent forth with joy sublime

Fram the full heart of England's youth, to hail

Her once neglected bard within the pale

Of Learning's fairest citadel! That voice,

In which the future thunders, bids rejoice

Some who through wintry fortunes did not fail

To bless with love as deep as life, the name

Thus welcomed;- who in happy silence share

The triumph; while their fondest musings claim

Unhoped-for echoes in the joyous air,

That to their long-loved poet's spirit

bear.

A nation's promise of undying fame.