Like thee-he sanctified his country's steel, Such pride as from impetuous love may spring, III. Those whom nor power, nor lying faith, nor toil, Nor custom, queen of many slaves, makes blind, Have ever grieved that man should be the spoil Of his own weakness, and with earnest mind Fed hopes of its redemption, these recur Chastened by deathful victory now, and find Foundations in this foulest age, and stir Me whom they cheer to be their minister. IV. Dark is the realm of grief: but human things Those may not know who cannot weep for them. The shadows of my soul upon mankind, For to those hearts with which they never blend, Thoughts are but shadows which the flashing FRAGMENT OF A SONG. O THAT a chariot of cloud were mine! air, When the moon over the ocean's line Is spreading the locks of her bright grey hair. O that a chariot of cloud were mine! I would sail on the waves of the billowy wind To the mountain peak and the rocky lake, FRAGMENT: TO A FRIEND LEAVING PRISON.1 FOR me, my friend, if not that tears did tremble In my faint eyes, and that my heart beat fast With feelings which make rapture pain resemble, Yet, from thy voice that falsehood starts aghast, I thank thee-let the tyrant keep His chains and tears, yea let him weep Like strength from slumber, from the prison, In which he vainly hoped the soul to bind Which on the chains must prey that fetter humankind. 1 Possibly a rejected passage for Rosalind and Helen.-ED. FRAGMENT: SATAN LOOSE. A GOLDEN-WINGED Angel stood Knew that strife was now begun. They knew that Satan had broken his chain, A sweet and a creeping sound ΙΟ Like the rushing of wings was heard around; And suddenly the lamps grew pale The lamps, before the Archangels seven, That burn continually in heaven. TWO FRAGMENTS TO MUSIC. I. SILVER key of the fountain of tears, Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild; Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child, Is laid asleep in flowers. II. No, Music, thou art not the "food of Love," Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self, Till it becomes all Music murmurs of. FRAGMENT: UNSATISFIED DESIRES. To thirst and find no fill-to wail and wander With short uneasy steps-to pause and ponder To feel the blood run through the veins and tingle Where busy thought and blind sensation mingle; To nurse the image of unfelt caresses STANZA: WEALTH AND LOVE. WEALTH and dominion fade into the mass But love, though misdirected, is among FRAGMENT: THOUGHTS. My thoughts arise and fade in solitude; away Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day: How beautiful they were, how firm they stood, Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl! A HATE-SONG: IMPROVISED. A HATER he came and sat by a ditch, And he sang a song which was more of a screech 'Gainst a woman that was a brute. LINES TO A CRITIC. I. HONEY from silkworms who can gather, The grass may grow in winter weather As soon as hate in me. II. Hate men who cant, and men who pray, And men who rail like thee; An equal passion to repay They are not coy like me. III. Or seek some slave of power and gold, IV. A passion like the one I Cannot divided be; prove I hate thy want of truth and love— |