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Save as some tree, which, in a sudden

blast, Sheddeth those blossoms, that are weakly “ FOR this true nobleness I seek in vain, grown,

In woman and in man I find it not; Upon the air, but keepeth every one

I almost weary of my earthly lot, Whose strength gives warrant of good fruit My life-springs are dried up with burning at last:

pain." So thou hast shed some blooms of gayety, Thou find’st it not? I pray thee look But never one of steadfast cheerfulness;

again, Nor hath thy knowledge of adversity Look inward through the depths of thine Robbed thee of any faith in happiness,

own soul. But rather cleared thine inner eyes to see

How is it with thee? Art thou sound and How many simple ways there are to bless.

whole ? Doth narrow search show thee no earthly

stain ? What were I, Love, if I were stripped of

BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies thee,

In other men, sleeping, but never dead, If thine eyes shut me out whereby I live,

Will rise in majesty to meet thine own;

Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, Thou, who unto my calmer soul dost give Knowledge, and Truth, and holy Mystery,

Then will pure light around thy path be Wherein Truth mainly lies for those who


And thou wilt nevermore be sad and lone. Beyond the earthly and the fugitive, Who in the grandeur of the soul believe, And only in the Infinite are free ?

TO THE SPIRIT OF KEATS Without thee I were naked, bleak, and bare

GREAT soul, thou sittest with me in my As yon dead cedar on the sea-cliff's brow;

room, And Nature's teachings, which come to me

Uplifting me with thy vast, quiet eyes,

On whose full orbs, with kindly lustre, lies now, Common and beautiful as light and air,

The twilight warmth of ruddy emberWould be as fruitless as a stream which still

gloom: Slips through the wheel of some old ruined Thy clear, strong tones will oft bring sudmill.

den bloom Of hope secure, to him who lonely cries,

Wrestling with the young poet's agonies, I would not have this perfect love of ours Neglect and scorn, which seem à certain Grow from a single root, a single stem,

doom: Bearing no goodly fruit, but only flowers Yes! the few words which, like great That idly hide life's iron diadem:

thunder-drops, It should grow alway like that Eastern Thy large heart down to earth shook doubttree

fully, Whose limbs take root and spread forth Thrilled by the inward lightning of its constantly;

might, That love for one, from which there doth Serene and pure, like gushing joy of light, not spring

Shall track the eternal chords of Destiny, Wide love for all, is but a worthless thing. After the moon-led pulse of ocean stops. Not in another world, as poets prate, Dwell we apart above the tide of things, High floating o’er earth's clouds on faery Great Truths are portions of the soul of wings;

man; But our pure love doth ever elevate Great souls are portions of Eternity; Into a holy bond of brotherhood

Each drop of blood that e'er through true All earthly things, making them pure and

heart ran good.

With lofty message, ran for thee and me;



Must spur


hath rung


For God's law, since the starry song began, Therefore shalt thou be ever fair and free,
Hath been, and still forevermore must be, And in thine every motion musical
That every

deed which shall outlast Time's As summer air, majestic as the sea,

A mystery to those who creep and crawl the soul to be erect and free; Through Time, and part it from Eternity. Slave is no word of deathless lineage

sprung; Too many noble souls have thought and My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst died,

die; Too many mighty poets lived and sung, Albeit I ask no fairer life than this, And our good Saxon, from lips purified Whose numbering-clock is still thy gentle With martyr-fire, throughout the world kiss,

While Time and Peace with hands enToo long to have God's holy cause denied.

lockëd fly;
Yet care I not where in Eternity

We live and love, well knowing that there is I ABK not for those thoughts, that sudden No backward step for those who feel the leap

bliss From being's sea, like the isle-seeming Of Faith as their most lofty yearnings Kraken,

high: With whose great rise the ocean all is

Love hath so purified my being's core, shaken

Meseems I scarcely should be startled, And a heart-tremble quivers through the

even, deep;

To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone Give me that growth which some perchance before; deem sleep,

Since, with thy love, this knowledge too Wherewith the steadfast coral-stems uprise, was given, Which, by the toil of gathering energies,

Which each calm day doth strengthen Their upward way into clear sunshine more and more, keep,

That they who love are but one step from Until, by Heaven's sweetest influences,

Slowly and slowly spreads a speck of green
Into a pleasant island in the seas,
Where, mid tall palms, the cane-roofed

I CANNOT think that thou shouldst pass home is seen,

away, And wearied men shall sit at sunset's hour,

Whose life to mine is an eternal law, Hearing the leaves and loving God's dear

A piece of nature that can have no flaw,

A new and certain sunrise every day;

But, if thou art to be another ray
About the Sun of Life, and art to live

Free from what part of thee was fugitive, TO M. W., ON HER BIRTHDAY The debt of Love I will more fully pay, MAIDEN, when such a soul as thine is born,

Not downcast with the thought of thee so The morning - stars their ancient music


But rather raised to be a nobler man, make, And, joyful, once again their song awake,

And more divine in my humanity, Long silent now with melancholy scorn;

As knowing that the waiting eyes which And thou, not mindless of so blest a morn, By no least deed its barmony shalt break,

My life are lighted by a purer being, But shalt to that high chime thy footsteps

And ask high, calm-browed deeds, with it take,

agreeing Through life's most darksome passes unforlorn;

THERE never yet was flower fair in vain, Therefore from thy pure faith thou shalt Let classic poets rhyme it as they will; not fall,

The seasons toil that it may blow again,








hide away


And summer's heart doth feel its every ill; Rounded itself into a full-orbed sun !
Nor is a true soul ever born for naught; How have our lives and wills (as haply erst
Wherever any such hath lived and died, They were, ere this forgetfulness begun)
There hath been something for true free- Through all their earthly distances out-

dom wrought, Some bulwark levelled on the evil side: And melted, like two rays of light in one ! Toil on, then, Greatness ! thou art in the

right, However narrow souls may call thee

READING WORDSWORTH'S SONNETS wrong; Be as thou wouldst be in thine own clear

sight, And so thon shalt be in the world's erelong;

These sonnets, XIV-XIX, when printed in For worldlings cannot, struggle as they merely the title Sonnets.

The Democratic Review for May, 1842, bore may, From man's great soul one great thought As the broad ocean endlessly upheaveth,

With the majestic beating of his heart,
The mighty tides, whereof its rightful part
Each sea-wide bay and little weed receiv-


So, through his soul who earnestly believeth,

Life from the universal Heart doth flow, The bope of Truth grows stronger, day by Whereby some conquest of the eternal day;

Woe, I hear the soul of Man around me waking, By instinct of God's nature, he achieveth: Like a great sea, its frozen fetters break- A fuller pulse of this all-powerful beauty ing,

Into the poet's gulf-like heart doth tide, And Alinging up to heaven its sunlit spray, And he more keenly feels the glorious duty Tossing huge continents in scornful play, Of serving Truth, despised and crucified, And crushing them, with din of grinding Happy, unknowing sect or creed, to rest, thunder,

And feel God flow forever through his That makes old emptinesses stare in won

breast. der; The memory of a glory passed away Lingers in every heart, as, in the shell,

THE SAME CONTINUED Resounds the bygone freedom of the sea, And every hour new signs of promise tell, ONCE hardly in a cycle blossometh That the great soul shall once again be free, A flower-like soul ripe with the seeds of For bigh, and yet more high, the murmurs

song, swell

A spirit foreordained to cope with wrong, Of inward strife for truth and liberty. Whose divine thoughts are natural as


Who the old Darkness thickly scattereth BELOVED, in the noisy city here,

With starry words, that sboot prevailing The thought of thee can make all turmoil light cease;

Into the deeps, and wither, with the blight Around my spirit, folds thy spirit clear Of serene Truth, the coward heart of Its still, soft arms, and circles it with

Death: peace;

Woe, if such spirit thwart its errand high, There is no room for any doubt or fear And mock with lies the longing soul of In souls so overfilled with love's increase,

man ! There is no memory of the bygone year Yet one age longer must true Culture lie, But growth in heart's and spirit's perfect Soothing her bitter fetters as she can,

Until new messages of love ontstart How hath our love, half nebulous at first, At the next beating of the infinite Heart.




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