An Impression. A WIND-SWEPT sky, And waste of moorland stretching to the west; The sea, low moaning in a strange unrestOne seagull's cry. Washed by the tide, The rocks lie sullen in the waning light; Above, around, Thunderous calm of drought that kills and sears; Upon the hill The gorse seems thirsting for the rain; but far, The Invitation. ACROSS the stream, the aspen branches kiss, One, for they understand Life's obvious bliss The world is brighter there; the sunset beam From there to here-between, no vast abyss— To the Stoic Within. "TIs well," thou sayest, "to spurn A world would else spurn thee; Yes, peace is well; but war When wronged weakness sues Than shameful'st shame or loss The indifferent world can cause. Stretch out thy hands then; not In expectation vain, But lavishing thy good; All is not good that's gold. Advance thine eyes that sought Beauty, to seek again, But heavenlier understood Worship what they behold. And let desire be bold To aim at what it would,Full joy, surcease of pain, To glad the common lot; So shall thy world become Not hostile, but a home. Fatherhood. A KISS, a word of thanks, away (So Nature bids) forget, nor turn And you (so Nature bids) would go Thro' fire and water for their sake; Rise early, late take rest, to sow Their wealth, and lie all night awake If but their little finger ache. The storied prince, with wondrous hair, Which stole men's hearts, and wrought his bale Rebelling, since he had no heir Built him a pillar in the dale, "Absalom's," lest his name should fail. It fails not, though the pillar lies In dust; because the outraged one, His father, with strong agonies Cried it until the day was done, "O Absalom, my son, my son!" So Nature bade. Or might it be God, who in Jewry once (they say) Children," who still held on their way, |