Ulysses and after

LTHOUGH Ulysses to undreamed-of seas Directs his galley, though the Resolutes Who plucked up hoary Ilium by the roots Sleep, or grow old and sink to sleep at ease, Shall we believe that in bewailing these We weep the world's end and the last recruits Of honour, while ourselves, poor destitutes, Have drained the wine of manhood to the lees?

Never believe it! Bid Ulysses go,
Guarded of Gods, in glory to his fate;

Bid the old princes, weary of old wars,

Hang up their swords: for us the trumpets blow,
For us the heroes gather in the gate,

And through the dusk their faces shine like stars.

J. Huntly McCarthy.

Ode to Duty

TERN Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou, who art victory and law

When empty terrors overawe;

From vain temptations dost set free;

And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!

There are who ask not if thine eye

Be on them; who, in love and truth,
Where no misgiving is, rely

Upon the genial sense of youth:

Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot;

Who do thy work, and know it not:

Long may the kindly impulse last!

But Thou, if they should totter, teach them to stand fast!

Serene will be our days and bright,

And happy will our nature be,
When love is an unerring light,
And joy its own security.

And they a blissful course may hold
Even now, who, not unwisely bold,
Live in the spirit of this creed;

Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need.

I, loving freedom, and untried;
No sport of every random gust,
Yet being to myself a guide,

Too blindly have reposed my trust;
And oft, when in my heart was heard
Thy timely mandate, I deferred

The task, in smoother walks to stray;

But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.

Through no disturbance of my soul,

Or strong compunction in me wrought,
I supplicate for thy control;
But in the quietness of thought:
Me this unchartered freedom tires;

I feel the weight of chance-desires:

My hopes no more must change their name,
I long for a repose that ever is the same.

Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
The Godhead's most benignant grace;
Nor know we anything so fair
As is the smile upon thy face:

Flowers laugh before thee on their beds
And fragrance in thy footing treads;

Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong;

And the most ancient Heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.

To humbler functions, awful Power!
I call thee: I myself commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
Oh, let my weakness have an end!
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give;

And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!

Wordsworth.

The Patriot

An Old Story

T was roses, roses, all the way,

With myrtle mixed in my path like mad: The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,

A year ago on this very day.

The air broke into a mist with bells,

The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries. Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repels

"But give me your sun from yonder skies!" They had answered, "And afterward, what else?"

Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun
To give it my loving friends to keep!
Nought man could do, have I left undone:

And you see my harvest, what I This very day, now a year is run.

reap

There's nobody on the house-tops now—
Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,
At the Shambles' Gate-or, better yet,
By the very scaffold's foot, I trow.

I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.

Thus I entered, and thus I go!

In triumphs, people have dropped down dead. "Paid by the world, what dost thou owe "Me?"-God might question; now instead,

'Tis God shall repay; I am safer so.

D

Robert Browning.

A Noble Rebel

IRE rebel though he was,

Yet with a noble nature and great gifts
Was he endowed,-courage, discretion, wit,
An equal temper, and an ample soul,

Rock-bound and fortified against assaults

Of transitory passion, but below

Built on a surging subterranean fire

That stirred and lifted him to high attempts.
So prompt and capable, and yet so calm,

He nothing lacked in sovereignty but the right,
Nothing in soldiership except good fortune.

Wherefore with honour lay him in his grave,
And thereby shall increase of honour come
Unto their arms who vanquished one so wise,
So valiant, so renowned.

Sir Henry Taylor.

The Burden of the State

HE burden of the State is great
And heavy bears the diadem.
Such faithful sort as minister,
What may they haply say to Her?
What shall She say to them?

For such as serve and such as reign
Have each their sorrows closely kept.
And they must closely keep their pain,
And take the burden up again
Forgetting that they have wept.

A Great Man

R. C. Legge.

HAT man is great, and he alone,
Who serves a greatness not his own,
For neither praise nor pelf:

Content to know, and be unknown:
Whole in himself.

Strong is that man, he only strong,
To whose well-ordered will belong,
For service and delight,

All powers that, in the face of Wrong,
Establish Right.

(B 838)