The pulsing torrent of a nation's heart; Some legend low and long,
Whose forests stronger than her native oaks Slow as the summer song
Are living men ; and whose unfathom'd Of the dull Deep.

lakes
Forever calm the unforgotten dead

Some legend long and low, In quiet graveyards willow'd seemly round, Whose equal ebb and flow O’er which To-day bends sad, and sees his

To and fro creep
face.

On the dim marge of gray
Whose rocks are rights, consolidate of old 'Tween the soul's night and day,
Thro' unremember'd years, around whose Washing “awake” away
base

Into “ asleep.”
The ever-surging peoples roll and roar
Perpetual, as around her cliffs the seas Some legend low and long,
That only wash them whiter; and whose Never so weak or strong
mountains,

As to let go
Souls that from this mere footing of the While it can hold this heart
earth

Withouten sigh or smart,
Lift their great virtues thro' all clouds of Or as to hold this heart
Fate

When it sighs “ No."
Up to the very heavens, and make them rise
To keep the gods above us !

Some long low swaying song,

As the sway'd shadow long ON THE DEATH OF MRS. Sways to and fro BROWNING

Where, thro' the crowing cocks,

And by the swinging clocks,
WHICH of the Angels sang so well in Some weary mother rocks
Heaven

Some weary woe.
That the approving Archon of the quire
Cried, “Come up hither!” and he, going Sing up and down to me
higher,

Like a dream-boat at sea,
Carried a note out of the choral seven ; So, and still so,
Whereat that cherub to whom choice is Float through the “then” and “when,"
given

Rising from when to then, Among the singers that on earth aspire Sinking from then to when Beckon'd thee from us, and thou, and thy While the waves go.

lyre Sudden ascended out of sight? Yet even Low and high, high and low, In Heaven thou weepest ! Well, true wife, Now and then, then and now, to weep !

Now, now; Thy voice doth so betray that sweet offence And when the now is then, and when the That no new call should more exalt thee

then is now, hence

And when the low is high, and when the But for thy harp. Ah, lend it, and such grace high is low, Shall still advance thy neighbor that thou Low, low;

Let me float, let the boat Thy seat, and at thy side a vacant place !

Let me glide, let me slide
FRAGMENT OF A SLEEP-SONG Slow, slow ;

Gliding boat, sliding boat,
SISTER Simplicitie,

Slow, slow;
Sing, sing a song to me,

Glide
away,
slide

away
Sing me to sleep.

So, so.

keep

Go, go ;

George Meredith

FROM “MODERN LOVE”

Whereby I know that I Love's temple leave,

And that the purple doors have clos'd behind. “ALL OTHER JOYS ”

Poor soul ! if in those early days unkind

Thy power to sting had been but power to ALL other joys of life he strove to warm,

grieve, And magnify, and catch them to his lip ; We now might with an equal spirit meet, But they had suffer'd shipwreck with the And not be match'd like innocence and vice. ship,

She for the Temple's worship has paid price, And gaz'd upon

him sallow from the storm. And takes the coin of Pity as a cheat. Or if Delusion came, 't was but to show She sees thro' simulation to the bone : The coming minute mock the one that went. What's best in her impels her to the worst. Cold as a mountain in its star-pitch'd tent Never, she cries, shall Pity soothe Love's Stood high Philosophy, less friend than foe ; thirst, Whom self-caged Passion, from its prison- Or foul hypocrisy for truth atone !

bars, Is always watching with a wondering hate.

ONE TWILIGHT HOUR Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. We saw the swallows gathering in the sky, Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And in the osier-isle we heard their noise. And the great price we pay for it full worth ! We had not to look back on summer joys, We have it only when we are half earth : Or forward to a summer of bright dye ; Little avails that coinage to the old ! But in the largeness of the evening earth

Our spirits grew as we went side by side. HIDING THE SKELETON

The hour became her husband, and my bride.

Love that had robb’d us so, thus bless'd our At dinner she is hostess, I am host.

dearth!
Went the feast ever cheerfuller ? She The pilgrims of the year

wax'd
very

loud keeps

In multitudinous chatterings, as the flood The topic over intellectual deeps

Full brown came from the west, and like In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost.

pale blood With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the Expanded to the upper crimson cloud.

Love, that had robb'd us of immortal things, It is in truth a most contagious game;

This little moment mercifully gave, HIDING THE SKELETON shall be its name. And still I see across the twilight wave Such play as this the devils might appall ! The swan sail with her young beneath her But here's the greater wonder; in that wings.

we, Enamor'd of our acting and our wits,

JUGGLING JERRY Admire each other like true hypocrites. Warm-lighted glances, Love's Ephemeræ, Pitch here the tent, while the old horse Shoot gayly o'er the dishes and the wine.

grazes : We waken envy of our happy lot.

By the old hedge-side we 'll halt a stage. Fast, sweet, and golden, shows our mar- It's nigh my last above the daisies : riage-knot.

My next leaf 'll be man's blank

page. Dear guests, you now have seen Love's | Yes, my old girl ! and it's no use crying : corpse-light shine!

Juggler, constable, king, must bow.

One that outjuggles all 's been spying
THE COIN OF PITY

Long to have me, and he has me now. THEY that Pity in Love's service dwells, We've travellid times to this old common : A porter at the rosy temple's gate.

Often we've hung our pots in the gorse. I miss'd him going : but it is my fate We've had a stirring life, old woman! To come upon him now beside his wells ; You, and I, and the old gray horse.

ball :

say

merry!

a

ful:

Races, and fairs, and royal occasions, But it's a woman, old girl, that makes me
Found us coming to their call :

Think more kindly of the race ;
Now they 'll miss us at our stations : And it's a woman, old girl, that shakes me
There's a Juggler outjuggles all !

When the Great Juggler I must face.
Up goes the lark, as if all were jolly! We two were married, due and legal :

Over the duck-pond the willow shakes. Honest we've liv'd since we've been one.
Easy to think that grieving 's folly,

Lord ! I could then jump like an eagle :
When the hand 's firm as driven stakes ! You danced bright as a bit o' the sun.
Ay! when we're strong, and braced, and Birds in a May-bush we were ! right

manful,
Life's a sweet fiddle ; but we're a batch All night we kiss'd - we juggled all day..
Born to become the Great Juggler's han’- Joy was the heart of Juggling Jerry!

Now from his old girl he's juggled away. Balls he shies up, and is safe to catch.

It's past parsons to console us : Here's where the lads of the village cricket; No, nor no doctor fetch for me : I was a lad not wide from here ;

I can die without my bolus ; Couldn't I whip off the bale from the Two of a trade, lass, never agree ! wicket?

Parson and Doctor ! - don't they love Like an old world those days appear !

rarely, Donkey, sheep, geese, and thatch'd ale- Fighting the devil in other men's fields ! house I know them!

Stand up yourself and match him fairly ; They are old friends of my halts, and Then see how the rascal yields !

seem, Somehow, as if kind thanks I owe them : I, lass, have liv'd no gypsy, flaunting, Juggling don't hinder the heart's esteem. Finery while his poor helpmate grubs ;

Coin I've stor'd, and you won't be wanting : Juggling 's no sin, for we must have victual ; You shan't beg from the troughs and tubs.

Nature allows us to bait for the fool. Nobly you've stuck to me, though in his Holding one's own makes us juggle no lit

kitchen tle;

Many a Marquis would hail you Cook ! But, to increase it, hard juggling's the Palaces you could have rul'd and grown rich rule.

in,
You that are sneering at my profession, But your old Jerry you never forsook.

Have n't you juggled a vast amount ?
There's the Prime Minister, in one Ses- Hand

up the chirper ! ripe ale winks in it ;
sion,

Let's have comfort and be at peace. Juggles more games than my sins 'll Once a stout draught made me light as a count.

linnet. Cheer

up

! the Lord must have his lease. I've murder'd insects with mock thunder: May be — for none see in that black holConscience, for that, in men don't quail.

low-
I've made bread from the bump of wonder : It's just a place where we're held in
That's my business, and there's my tale.

pawn,
Fashion and rank all prais'd the professor ; | And, when the Great Juggler makes us to
Ay! and I've had my smile from the swallow,
Queen :

It's just the sword-trick - I ain't quite
Bravo, Jerry! she meant : God bless her!
Ain't this a sermon on that scene ?

Yonder came smells of the gorse, so nutty,
I've studied men from my topsy-turvy Gold-like and warm ; it's the prime of
Close, and, I reckon, rather true.

May.
Some are fine fellows : some, right scurvy: Better than mortar, brick, and putty,
Most, a dash between the two.

Is God's house on a blowing day.

gone !

it :

Lean me more up the mound ; now I feel For all to hear and all to know

That he is joy, awake, aglow, All the old heath-smells ! Ain't it The tumult of the heart to hear strange?

Through pureness filter'd crystal-clear, There's the world laughing, as if to conceal And know the pleasure sprinkled bright it,

By simple singing of delight, But He's by us, juggling the change. Shrill, irreflective, unrestrain'd,

Rapt, ringing, on the jet sustain'd
I mind it well, by the sea-beach lying, Without a break, without a fall,
Once - it's long gone – when two gulls Sweet-silvery, sheer lyrical,

-
we beheld,

Perennial, quavering up the chord
Which, as the moon got up, were flying Like myriad dews of sunny sward
Down a big wave that spark'd and That trembling into fulness shine,
swell’d.

And sparkle dropping argentine ; Crack ! went a gun : one fell : the second Such wooing as the ear receives Wheel'd round him twice, and was off From zephyr caught in choric leaves for new luck :

Of aspens when their chattering net There in the dark her white wing Is flush'd to white with shivers wet ; beckon'd :

And such the water-spirit's chime Drop me a kiss — I'm the bird dead- On mountain heights in morning's prime, struck !

Too freshly sweet to seem excess,
Too animate to need a stress ;

But wider over many heads
THE LARK ASCENDING The starry voice ascending spreads,

Awakening, as it waxes thin,
He rises and begins to round,

The best in us to him akin ; He drops the silver chain of sound

And every face to watch him rais'd, Of many links without a break,

Puts on the light of children prais'd, In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake,

So rich our human pleasure ripes All intervolv'd and spreading wide,

When sweetness on sincereness pipes, Like water-dimples down a tide

Though nought be promis'd from the seas, Where ripple ripple overcurls

But only a soft-ruffling breeze And eddy into eddy whirls ;

Sweep glittering on a still content,
A press of hurried notes that run

Serenity in ravishment.
So fleet they scarce are more than one,
Yet changingly the trills repeat

For singing till his heaven fills,
And linger ringing while they fleet, 'T is love of earth that he instils,
Sweet to the quick o' the ear, and dear And ever winging up and up,
To her beyond the handmaid ear,

Our valley is his

golden cup, Who sits beside our inner springs,

And be the wine which overflows Too often dry for this he brings,

To lift us with him as he

goes : Which seems the very jet of earth

The woods and brooks, the sheep and kine At sight of sun, her music's mirth,

He is, the hills, the human line, As up he wings the spiral stair,

The meadows green, the fallows brown, A song of light, and pierces air

The dreams of labor in the town ; With fountain ardor, fountain play,

He sings the sap, the quicken'd veins ; To reach the shining tops of day,

The wedding song of sun and rains And drink in everything discern'd

He is, the dance of children, thanks An ecstasy to music turn'd,

Of sowers, shout of primrose-banks, Impell’d by what his happy bill

And eye of violets while they breathe ; Disperses ; drinking, showering still, All these the circling song will wreathe, Unthinking save that he may give

And you shall hear the herb and tree, His voice the outlet, there to live

The better heart of men shall see, Renewd in endless notes of glee,

Shall feel celestially, as long So thirsty of his voice is he,

As you crave nothing save the song.