What can I now suspect, or what can I fear any longer?
Oft did I fear, oft hope, whilst life in Sidney remained:
Of nothing can I now despair, for nought can I hope for:
This good is in misery, when great extremity grieves us,
That neither hope of good, nor fear of worse can affright us.
And can I then complain, when no complaint can avail me?
How can I seem to be discontent, or what can I weep for?
He lives eternal, with endless glory bedecked:
Yea, still on earth he lives, and still shall live by the Muses.

In ancient Rome, the secret fire, —
An intimate and holy thing, —
Was guarded by a tender choir
Of kindred maidens in a ring;
Deep, deep within the home it lay,
No stranger ever gazed thereon,
But, flickering still by night and day,
The beacon of the house, it shone;
Thro' birth and death, from age to age,
It passed, a quenchless heritage;

And there were hymns of mystic tone
Sung round about the family flame,
Beyond the threshold all unknown,
Fast-welded to an ancient name;
There sacrificed the sire as priest,

Men of thought! be up, and stirring
Night and day:
Sow the seed — withdraw the curtain —
C LEAR THE WAY !
Men of action, aid and cheer them,
As ye may!
There's a fount about to stream,
There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,
There's a flower about to blow;
There's a midnight blackness changing
Into grey.
Men of thought and men of action,
C LEAR THE WAY !

Once the welcome light has broken,
Who shall say
What the unimagined glories
Of the day?
What the evil that shall perish
In its ray?

With right good will I'll sail to the land of MacLeod, steering a course for that man of great worth.
It is right that I shall know my way in MacLeod's domain, if hard weather repulse me not.
Westward I'll voyage through the lowering of the storms, to the tower to which tenantry resort,
Since I have heard the precious news and true, that hath banished the pang in my breast.
MacLeod I shall behold, that youth high in esteem, comely of aspect and rich in virtues;
Sprung from Olgar of sword-blades, that would raise satin pennons to mast—MacLeods are of that haughty race!

In the little southern parlor of the house you may have seen
With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green,
At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right,
Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night!

Ah me! how I remember the evening when it came!
What a cry of eager voices, what a group of cheeks in flame,
When the wondrous box was opened that had come from over seas,
With its smell of mastic-varnish and its flash of ivory keys!

Then the children all grew fretful in the restlessness of joy,

I.

TIME .

Time in threefold measure strides:
Mark the Future's halting guise,
Arrow-like the Present flies,
Still for aye the Past abides.

No impatience pricks his speed
Would he tarry on his way.
No alarms his march impede,
Nor do doubts his footsteps stay.
When he pauses, no remorse
Moves him to resume his course.

Wouldst thou lead a happy life?
Wisely end thy term of strife,
Call the “laggard” to thy side—
Not as tool, but as thy guide.
“Arrow-swift” avoid as friend,
'Ware th' “Abiding” to offend.

We'll praise thee, Lord! forever;
Thou reignest, King of kings;
Thy wondrous love and favor,
Each ransom'd captive sings:
We'll celebrate thy glory
With all thy saints above,
And tell the joyful story,
Of thy redeeming love.

Three words of significant import I name,
And lips to each other impart;
From no indiscriminate sources they came,
But their origin have in the heart.
And unless these words form part of his creed,
Man is a pitiful creature indeed.

Man was created, and man is,free,
No matter if born in chains:
Let the cry of the rabble pass over thee,
And the howl of extravagant swains!
Of no free man stand thou in fear,
Nor of slave who has conquered a free career.

AndVirtueis more than an echoing call,
For it serves man day by day,

Hast thou observed the babe who, ignorant of the affection
Which his cradle surrounds, sleeps through each changing embrace,
Till in a natural burst the passions of youth are awakened,
And the first conscious flash suddenly shows him the world?
Hast thou the mother observed, who purchases sleep for her darling
At the cost of her own, tenderly guarding his dreams,
With her own very life supporting his feeble existence,
And in her deep concern finds a sufficient reward?
And dost thou speak ill of Nature which, Mother and infant,

TO J. L., DE T .

Dark, dark at last! and this warm tide of scent, —
A west wind in a cedarn element, —
These cold leaves of the lily out of sight,
And the long single ray of sacred light!

'Tis night, then; I have slept, and o'er my sleep
The soul of love has hovered close and deep.

A bat moves in the porphyry capitals,
And cuts the clear-drawn radiance as it falls;
So man, intruding in his bestial way,
Shears from the lamp of God the heavenly ray.