TO THE SPIRIT OF KEATS. GREAT soul, thou sittest with me in my room, Uplifting me with thy vast, quiet eyes, On whose full orbs, with kindly lustre, lies The twilight warmth of ruddy embergloom: Thy clear, strong tones will oft bring sudden bloom Of hope secure, to him who lonely cries, Wrestling with the young poet's agonies, Neglect and scorn, which seem a certain doom: Yes! the few words which, like great thunder-drops, Thy large heart down to earth shook doubtfully, Thrilled by the inward lightning of its might, Serene and pure, like gushing joy of light, Shall track the eternal chords of Destiny, After the moon-led pulse of ocean stops. there is And a heart-tremble quivers through the | We live and love, well knowing that deep; Give me that growth which some perchance deem sleep, Wherewith the steadfast coral-stems uprise, Which, by the toil of gathering energies, Their upward way into clear sunshine keep, 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 home is seen, And wearied men shall sit at sunset's hour, Hearing the leaves and loving God's dear power. VIII. TO M. W., ON HER BIRTHDAY. MAIDEN, when such a soul as thine is born, The morning-stars their ancient music make, And, joyful, once again their song awake, Long silent now with melancholy scorn; And thou, pot mindless of so blest a morn, By no least deed its harmony shalt break, No backward step for those who feel the bliss Of Faith as their most lofty yearnings high: Love hath so purified my being's core, Meseems I scarcely should be startled, even, To find, some morn, that thou hadst gone before; Since, with thy love, this knowledge too was given, Which each calm day doth strengthen more and more, That they who love are but one step from Heaven. X. I CANNOT think that thou shouldst pass away, Whose life to mine is an eternal law, But rather raised to be a nobler man, But shalt to that high chime thy foot-As knowing that the waiting eyes which And more divine in my humanity, steps take, Through life's most darksome passes unforlorn; Therefore from thy pure faith thou shalt not fall, Therefore shalt thou be ever fair and free, And in thine every motion musical scan My life are lighted by a purer being, And ask high, calm-browed deeds, with it agreeing. XI. THERE never yet was flower fair in vain, However narrow souls may call thee wrong; Be as thou wouldst be in thine own clear sight, ON READING WORDSWORTH'S SONNETS As the broad ocean endlessly upheaveth, Each sea-wide bay and little weed re- THE hope of Truth grows stronger, day So, through his soul who earnestly be by day; I hear the soul of Man around me wak-Life ing, Like a great sea, its frozen fetters breaking, And flinging up to heaven its sunlit spray, Tossing huge continents in scornful play, And crushing them, with din of grind. ing thunder, That makes old emptinesses scare in won. der; lieveth, from the universal Heart doth flow, Whereby some conquest of the eternal Woe, By instinct of God's nature, he achiev A fuller pulse of this all-powerful beauty Of serving Truth, despised and cruci fied, While she in glorious madness doth fore cast That perfect bud, which seems a flower full-blown To each new Prophet, and yet always opes Fuller and fuller with each day and hour, Heartening the soul with odor of fresh hopes, And longings high, and gushings of wide power, Yet never is or shall be fully blown XIX. THE SAME CONCLUDED. FAR 'yond this narrow parapet of Time, With eyes uplift, the poet's soul should look Into the Endless Promise, nor should brook One prying doubt to shake his faith sublime; To him the earth is ever in her prime And dewiness of morning; he can see Good lying hid, from all eternity, Within the teeming womb of sin and crime; His soul should not be cramped by any bar, His nobleness should be so Godlike high, That his least deed is perfect as a star, His common look majestic as the sky, And all o'erflooded with a light from far, Undimmed by clouds of weak mortality. Spring of all sweetest thoughts, arch foe | Save there the rain in dreamy clouds of blame, Sower of flowers in the dusty mart, If we but keep it spotless as it came. doth stay, As loath to fall out of those happy skies; Yet sure, my love, thou art most like to May, That comes with steady sun when April dies. XXIII. WENDELL PHILLIPS. HE stood upon the world's broad threshold; wide The din of battle and of slaughter rose ; He saw God stand upon the weaker side, That sank in seeming loss before its foes: Many there were who made great haste and sold Unto the cunning enemy their swords, He scorned their gifts of fame, and power, and gold, And, underneath their soft and flowery words, Heard the cold serpent hiss; therefore he went And humbly joined him to the weaker part, Fanatic named, and fool, yet well con |