Suddenly came her notice and we past, I with our lover to his native Bay.

This love is of the brain, the mind, the soul:

That makes the sequel pure; tho' some of us Beginning at the sequel know no more. Not such am I and yet I say, the bird That will not hear my call, however sweet, But if my neighbor whistle answers him

What matter? there are others in the wood. Yet when I saw her (and I thought him crazed,

Tho' not with such a craziness as needs A cell and keeper), those dark eyes of hers

Oh! such dark eyes! and not her eyes alone,

But all from these to where she touch'd on earth,

For such a craziness as Julian's seem'd No less than one divine apology.

So sweetly and so modestly she came To greet us, her young hero in her arms! "Kiss him," she said. "You gave me life again.

He, but for you, had never seen it once. His other father you! Kiss him, and then Forgive him, if his name be Julian too."

Talk of lost hopes and broken heart!

| Had suck'd the fire of some forgotten suy And kept it thro' a hundred years o gloom,

Yet glowing in a heart of ruby - cups Where nymph and god ran ever roub in gold

Others of glass as costly-some with genr
Movable and resettable at will,
And trebling all the rest in value - Au
heavens !

Why need I tell you all?-suffice to say
That whatsoever such a house as his,
And his was old, has in it rare or fair
Was brought before the guest: and they
the guests,

Wonder'd at some strange light in Julian's

eyes

(I told you that he had his golden hour), And such a feast, ill-suited as it seem'd To such a time, to Lionel's loss and his, And that resolved self-exile from a land He never would revisit, such a feast So rich, so strange, and stranger ev'n than rich,

But rich as for the nuptials of a king.

And stranger yet, at one end of the hall Two great funereal curtains, looping down, Parted a little ere they met the floor, About a picture of his lady, taken Some years before, and falling hid the frame.

And just above the parting was a lamp: So the sweet figure folded round with night Seem'd stepping out of darkness with a smile.

And shows them whatsoever he accounts Of all his treasures the most beautiful, Gold, jewels, arms, whatever it may be.

This custom

Pausing here a moment, all The guests broke in upon him with meeting hands

And cries about the banquet-"Beautiful!

Who could desire more beauty at a feast?"

The lover answer'd, "There is more than one

Here sitting who desires it. Laud me not Before my time, but hear me to the close. This custom steps yet further when the

guest

Is loved and honor'd to the uttermost.
For after he has shown him gems or gold,
He brings and sets before him in rich guise
That which is thrice as beautiful as these,
The beauty that is dearest to his heart
O my heart's lord, would I could show
you,' he says,

'Ev'n my heart too.' And I propose tonight

To show you what is dearest to my heart, And my heart too.

"But solve me first a doubt. I knew a man, nor many years ago; He had a faithful servant, one who loved His master more than all on earth beside. He falling sick, and seeming close on death,

His master would not wait until he died, But bade his menials bear him from the door,

And leave him in the public way to die. 1 knew another, not so long ago, Who found the dying servant, took him home,

And fed, and cherish'd him, and saved his life.

I ask you now, should this first master claim

His service, whom does it belong to him Who thrust him out, or him who saved his life?"

This question, so flung down before

the guests,

And balanced either way by each, at length When some were doubtful how the law would hold,

Was handed over by consent of all
To one who had not spoken, Lionel.

Slow-moving as a wave against the wind, That flings a mist behind it in the sun And bearing high in arms the mighty babe,

The younger Julian, who himself was crown'd

With roses, none so rosy as himself-
And over all her babe and her the jewels
Of many generations of his house
Sparkled and flash'd, for he had decked
them out

As for a solemn sacrifice of love-
So she came in: - I am long in telling it.
I never yet beheld a thing so strange,
Sad, sweet, and strange together-floated
in,

While all the guests in mute amazement

"Now all be dumb, and promise all of you

Not to break in on what I say by word Or whisper, while I show you all my heart."

And then began the story of his love
As here to-day, but not so wordily -
The passionate moment would not suffer
that-

Past thro' his visions to the burial; thence Down to this last strange hour in his own hall;

And then rose up, and with him all his guests

Once more as by enchantment; all but he, Lionel, who fain had risen, but fell again, And sat as if in chains - to whom he said:

Rush'd each at each with a cry, that rather seem'd

For some new death than for a life renew'd;

At this the very babe began to wail; At once they turn'd, and caught and brought him in

To their charm'd circle, and, half-killing him

With kisses, round him closed and claspt again.

But Lionel, when at last he freed himself From wife and child, and lifted up a face All over glowing with the sun of life, And love, and boundless thanks-the sight of this

So frighted our good friend, that turning

to me

And saying, "It is over: let us go" There were our horses ready at the doors— We bade them no farewell, but mounting these

He past for ever from his native land: And I with him, my Julian, back to mine.

Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the just,

To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer sky:

Give her the wages of going on, and no to die.

THE HIGHER PANTHEISM.

THE sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains

Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns?

Is not the Vision He? tho' He be not that which He seems?

FLOWER in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies; -
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower- but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

LUCRETIUS.

LUCILIA, wedded to Lucretius, found Her master cold; for when the morning flush

Of passion and the first embrace had died Between them, tho' he loved her none the less,

we not live in dreams?

Earth, these solid stars, this weight of

body and limb,

Are they not sign and symbol of thy division from Him?

-

To greet him with a kiss, the master took Small notice, or austerely, for his mind Half buried in some weightier argument, Or fancy-borne perhaps upon the rise And long roll of the Hexameter- he past To turn and ponder those three hundred scrolls

reason why; For is He not all but thou, that hast power to feel "I am I"?

Glory about thee, without thee; and thou

fulfillest thy doom, Making Him broken gleams, and a stifled splendor and gloom.

Speak to Him thou for He hears, and

Spirit with Spirit can meet Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.

God is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice,

For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice.

Law is God, say some: no God at all, says the fool;

For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool;

And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man cannot see; But if we could see and hear, this Visionwere it not He?

Dreaming some rival, sought and found a witch

Who brew'd the philtre which had power, they said,

To lead an errant passion home again. And this, at times, she mingled with his drink,

And this destroy'd him; for the wicked

broth

Confused the chemic labor of the blood, And tickling the brute brain within the man's

Made havoc among those tender cells, and check'd

His power to shape: he loathed himself; and once

After a tempest woke upon a morn That mock'd him with returning calm, and cried;

"Storm in the night! for thrice I heard the rain

Rushing; and once the flash of a thunderbolt

Methought I never saw so fierce a fork Struck out the streaming mountain-side, and show'd