DEAF AND DUMB.

A GROUP BY WOOLNER.

ONLY the prism's obstruction shows aright
The secret of a sunbeam, breaks its light
Into the jewelled bow from blankest white,
So may a glory from defect arise:

Only by Deafness may the vexed Love wreak
Its insuppressive sense on brow and cheek,
Only by Dumbness adequately speak

As favoured mouth could never, through the eyes.

DRAMATIS PERSONE

PROSPICE.

FEAR death?—to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face,

When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
I am nearing the place,

The power of the night, the press of the storm,
The post of the foe;

Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,
Yet the strong man must go:

For the journey is done and the summit attained,

And the barriers fall,

Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,

The reward of it all.

I was ever a fighter, so-one fight more,

The best and the last!

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore,

And bade me creep past.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers

The heroes of old,

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute 's at end,

And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend,

Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast,

O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!

EURYDICE TO ORPHEUS.

A PICTURE BY LEIGHTON.

BUT give them me, the mouth, the eyes, the brow!
Let them once more absorb me! One look now
Will lap me round for ever, not to pass
Out of its light, though darkness lie beyond:
Hold me but safe again within the bond

Of one immortal look! All woe that was,
Forgotten, and all terror that may be,

Defied,-no past is mine, no future: look at me!

YOUTH AND art.

I.

IT once might have been, once only:
We lodged in a street together,

You, a sparrow on the housetop lonely,
I, a lone she-bird of his feather.

II.

Your trade was with sticks and clay,

You thumbed, thrust, patted and polished, Then laughed "They will see some day

"Smith made, and Gibson demolished."

III.

My business was song, song, song;

I chirped, cheeped, trilled and twittered, "Kate Brown's on the boards ere long,

"And Grisi's existence embittered!"