Thou knowest no toil for raiment,
No pain of mocked desire ;
The skies are thy song's payment,
The sun thy throne of fire.
Thou askest and receivest,
And if perchance thou grievest,
At will the world thou leavest
On wings that never tire.

Yet we of grosser stature
Have in thy flight a part,
We share thy tameless nature,
We have a nobler art.
When thou art tired returning,
There mount in love and yearning,
Toward suns of keener burning,
The winged thoughts of our heart.

Not by my worst, when dull or bitterly The mind moved, and the evil in my blood Worked words of anger thy meek will

withstood, Not by the hours I sinned 'gainst love and

thee, Oh, not by these, dear love, remember me. First in our mind live things that perfect be, All shapes of joy or beauty, — day's low

light Dying along the seaward edge of night, The first sweet violet, music's ecstasy, Making the heart leap, - - so remember me. For I would have thy mind and memory A chamber of sweet sounds and fragrances. Let the ill pass : its power to hurt was less Than joy's to bless us. I remember thee By thy first kiss ; Oh, thus remember me ! There was an hour wherein a god's degree And stature seemed to clothe me, and I

stood Supremely strong, and high, and great, and

good : Oh, by that hour, when all I aimed to be I did appear, by that remember me !

Within our souls are folden
The wings thou canst not share,
We see a dawn more golden,
We breathe diviner air :
In sleep when toil is ended,
In prayer with hope attended,
We traverse ways more splendid,
And see a world more fair.

Yet oft, when day is gleaming
On sleepless eyes, we vow
We would exchange our dreaming
To be one hour as thou !
Such discontent we borrow,
That we forget in sorrow
We have the long to-morrow,
Thou only hast the now.

TO A DESOLATE FRIEND

O FRIEND, like some cold wind to-day
Your message came, and chilled the light ;
Your house so dark, and mine so bright,
I could not weep, I could not pray !