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8. Instances he must — simply recognize ?

Oh, more than so!- must, with a learner's zeal, Make doubly prominent, twice emphasize,

By added touches that reveal The god in babe's disguise.

9.

Oh, he knows what defeat means, and the rest !

Himself the undefeated that shall be : Failure, disgrace, he flings them you to test,

His triumph, in eternity Too plainly manifest !

10.

Whence, judge if he learn forthwith what the wind

Means in its moaning — by the happy, prompt, Instinctive way of youth, I mean — for kind

Calm years, exacting their accompt Of pain, mature the mind :

11.

And some midsummer morning, at the lull

Just about daybreak, as he looks across A sparkling foreign country, wonderful

To the sea's edge for gloom and gloss, Next minute must annul,

12. Then, when the wind begins among the vines,

So low, so low, what shall it mean but this ? “ Here is the change beginning, here the lines

Circumscribe beauty, set to bliss The limit time assigns.”

13.
Nothing can be as it has been before;

Better, so call it, only not the same.
To draw one beauty into our hearts' core,

And keep it changeless ! such our claim ;
So answered, — Never more !

14.

Simple? Why this is the old woe o' the world ;

Tune, to whose rise and fall we live and die. Rise with it, then! Rejoice that man is hurled

From change to change unceasingly. His soul's wings never furled !

15. That's a new question ; still replies the fact,

Nothing endures : the wind moans, saying so ; We moan in acquiescence: there 's life's pact,

Perhaps probation — do I know? God does : endure his act !

16. Only, for man, how bitter not to grave

On his soul's hands' palms one fair, good, wise thing Just as he grasped it! For himself, death's wave ;

While time first washes — ah, the sting!-O’er all he'd sink to save.

VII.

AMONG THE ROCKS.

Oh, good, gigantic smile o' the brown old earth,

This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i’ the sun, and thrusts-out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth;

Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.

That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;

Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. If you loved only what were worth your love, Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you:

Make the low nature better by your throes ! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above !

VIII.

BESIDE THE DRAWING-BOARD.

“ As like as a Hand to another Hand”:

Whoever said that foolish thing, Could not have studied to understand

The counsels of God in fashioning, Out of the infinite love of His heart, This Hand, whose beauty I praise, apart From the world of wonder left to praise, If I tried to learn the other ways Of love, in its skill, or love, in its power. “As like as a Hand to another Hand”: Who said that, never took his stand, Found and followed, like me, an hour The beauty in this, — how free, how fine To fear, almost, — of the limit-line! As I looked at this, and learned and drew, Drew and learned, and looked again, While fast the happy minutes flew,

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