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That who shall say, what comes to thee,
Shall bring nor scathe, nor chain to me?
Bewildered and confused we stand,
Opposing laws on either hand,

And our innumerous customs die,
Into the Passive of one Lie ;

And that is life—as we've disguised it,
And gravely said that Heaven devised it.

Mark, and at times through our narration
A latent sense may meet thy view!
What seems most like exaggeration,
Clothes oft the fact most simply true!

Where are our Twins?-far-far before—
I'm quite ashamed so long we've tarried,
See them to Julian's small first floor,

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See them beside his table sitting

Chang in deep thought, his dark brow knitting—

Ching sipping port-I fear not Allnutt's—

And cracking pleasure out of wallnuts.

While Julian thinks in Chang to view,
A vein of kindred cogitation,

And enters with that youth, into

A sentimental conversation:

They talked of Love, the lord of earth,
Its power-its mystery-and its birth;
Both-apt its colours to enhance
With the rich moonlight of romance.

"Yes," Julian said, "yes-oft, methinks, "There is in love the germ of more "Than our philosophies explore. "I speak not of the end acquired, "When the soul rests-where it desired: "But ere the end be gained--what bright "But half-caught Visions haunt the sight! "Back into shade the vision shrinks, "But not its memory of delight!

"Flock thousand dim and faëry feelings, "Love only wakes, our spirit o'er;

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Vague thoughts we fain would call revealings, "The stars grow lovelier than before; "From our earth's clay a cloud is driven, "And we gaze oftener on the heaven. "There the soft instinct seems to win us; "Something, new-kindled, stirs within us; "The lesser and the lower aims

"Of life, the ennobled heart disclaims;
"The fervour in its very faults
"Refines, and mellows, and exalts.
"We lose the sense of self, we glow
"With a vague love for all below:

"More generous impulse swells the thought, "Than e'er by saint or sage was taught;

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High deeds, half-shunn 'd before, the soul "Now pants, now pines, to make its goal. "All things divine and fair, the birth "Of flowers, the gladness of the earth, "The mystery of the air and sea; "The charmed tongue of Poesy;

"(Which th' un-purg'd grossness of the brain

"Had scorn'd till then as light and vain,)

"All, the full all, that we inherit,

"Grow sooth, and augur to the spirit!

"Lofty and tender thoughts, before
"Undreamt, become our angel food,

"And our regenerate minds adore

"The glory and the truth of GOOD!

"Such are the signs within, the while
"Our nature coins itself in love;
"And such to me seem signs that smile
"As types and tokens from above!
"For they are not of earth! but rather

"The struggling and half-fledged desires, "For what on earth we may not gather!— “Love never grants what it inspires ! "Possession may content the frame, "And calm, nay haply quell, the flame;

"But those wild visions and aspirings,

"The' unbodied, dream-like, dim desirings--

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They shun all earthlier fruition!

"They speak an uncompleted doom! "They murmur at the clay's condition! "And pine within us to the tomb!

"Yes! Love brings something more than Love! "A prophet and divine impression,

"That that which yearneth here—--above "Shall not be all denied possession.

"Though dormant in the secret breast

66 Through the harsh toil, and grinding strife, “And sluggish sleep, that eke the rest "Of the long acts of motley life ;"Though dormant, may the guest divine "Lurk in its lone discultured shrine; "(For as our gloomy way we grope, "We ask but light from earthly hope, "Ne'er seeking, and but darkly seeing, "The inward glory of our being;)

"At once it wakes, and breathes, and moves, "The instant that our nature loves

"No! never human lover knew,

"A passion deeply felt and true;
"And did not-
t-ere his love declined-

"Feel the Immortal of the Mind;

"Feel how-unseen and still-we cherish

"That SOMETHING never doomed to perish, "And own the homeward-pining sigh

"Of the pent exile of the sky!"

As Julian ceased, upon his mien

And air, and brow, and lofty look, The whole of his bright heart was seen, As stamped upon a book!

And Chang, in whose dark troublous breast The finer thoughts lay unconfest,

But often struggling; on him fixed

A look where awe with pleasure mixed.

After a brief pause, musingly

And slow, the Indian made reply.

He tells how to his vision seems
Love, not indeed without the soft
And sacred thoughts, and seer-like dreams
Which Julian spake of;-but more oft.
Full of dread omens-shapes that made
The heart's blood creep ;---grim images
That lay coil'd snake-like in a shade
Of horror;-ghastly impulses
To some black, guilty purpose urging
The will that shuddered while in verging.

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