English

The Preacher who hath fought a goodly fight
And toiled for his great Master all day long,
Grows faint and harassed after evensong,
And harshly chides the eager proselyte;
The Sage who strode along the even height
Of narrow Justice severing wrong from wrong,
Stumbles, and sinks below the common throng,
In pits of prejudice forlorn of light.
But thou, within whose veins a cooler blood
Runs reasonably quiet, brand not thou
With name of hypocrite each sunken brow;
To every son of man on earth who would

Cupid, at length I spy thy crafty wile,
Though for a time thou didst me sore beguile.
When first thy shaft did wound my tender heart,
It touched me light; methought I felt some pain;
Some little prick at first did make me smart,
But yet that grief was quickly gone again.
Full small account I made of such a sore,
As now doth rankle inward more and more.

So poison first the sinews lightly strains,
Then strays, and after spreads through all the veins;
No otherwise, than he, that pricked with thorn,

The frozen snake, oppressed with heaped snow,
By struggling hard gets out her tender head,
And spies far off, from where she lies below,
The winter sun that from the North is fled:
But all in vain she looks upon the light,
Where heat is wanting to restore her might.

What doth it help a wretch in prison pent,
Long time with biting hunger overpressed,
To see without, or smell within the scent
Of dainty fare, for others tables dressed?
Yet snake and pris'ner both behold the thing,

I.

" Why dost thou look so sad and wan?
And why art thou so wo-begone?
Why dost thou mutter words of fear?
Do I not love thee, father dear?
Is not earth a place of joy?
Tell me, father, tell thy boy."

II.

" There is a fiend doth follow me;
A fearful fiend thou canst not see —
But I behold him. Day or night
He is not absent from my sight:
I know thou lovest me, O my child, —
But this demon drives me wild.

III.

" The world was once both good and fair,

She hath lived so silently and loved so much,
That she is deeply stirred by little things,
While pain's long ache and sorrow's sharper stings
Scarce move her spirit that eludes their clutch;
But one half-tone of music, or the touch
Of some tame bird's eager vibrating wings,
Breaks up the sealed fountain's murmurings
To storm, or what in others might seem such;
So, when she lifts her serious lids to turn
On ours her soft and magical dark eyes,
All womanhood seems on her, in disguise;
As on the pale white peacock we discern

" Whither away? whither away,
With thine eyes through the distance looking so keen?
The road is narrow, and is not long;
And if thou wouldst but awhile delay,
I would show thee sights thou hast not seen.
And thou shouldst hear a voice of song,
And thou shouldst learn of things unknown,
And live a double and fuller life.
Whither away? I prithee stay, —
There are angels near; thou'rt not alone —
The very air is with beauty rife.
The night is lovely, fair is the day,
Why this hurry to travel away,

In Ipswich town, not far from the sea,
Rises a hill which the people call
Heartbreak Hill, and its history
Is an old, old legend, known to all.

The selfsame dreary, worn-out tale
Told by all peoples in every clime,
Still to be told till the ages fail,
And there comes a pause in the march of Time.

It was a sailor who won the heart
Of an Indian maiden, lithe and young;
And she saw him over the sea depart,
While sweet in her ear his promise rung;

For he cried, as he kissed her wet eyes dry,

O praise ye the Lord! prepare your glad voice,
His praise in the great assembly to sing;
In their great Creator let all men rejoice,
And all, who are ransom'd, be glad in their King.

Let them his great name devoutly adore;
In loud swelling strains his praises express,
Who graciously opens his bountiful store,
Their wants to relieve, the afflicted to bless.

With glory adorn'd, his people shall sing
To God, who defence and freedom supplies:
Their loud acclamations to him, their great King,

Last night I woke and found between us drawn, —
Between us, where no mortal fear may creep, —
The vision of Death dividing us in sleep;
And suddenly I thought, Ere light shall dawn
Some day, — the substance, not the shadow, of Death
Shall cleave us like a sword. The vision passed,
But all its new-born horror held me fast,
And till day broke I listened for your breath.
Some day to wake, and find that coloured skies,
And pipings in the woods, and petals wet,
Are things for aching memory to forget;

Is this Spring upon the scene?
Has the earth grown young again?
Sunlit hills are clothed with green,
Loosened is the ice-bound chain.
Mirrored in the azure rill,
Smile serene and cloudless skies;
Zephyr's breath has lost its chill,
Dainty flowerets ope their eyes.
Warbling notes the bushes cheer,
Cries the nymph in dulcet key;
All the blossoms reappear,
But thy daughter where is she?

By what long and devious ways
Have I sought her darling trace!
Titan, all thy piercing rays