Such and so grew these holy piles,
Whilst love and terror laid the tiles.
Earth proudly wears the Parthenon
As the best gem upon her zone;
And Morning opes with haste her lids
To gaze upon the Pyramids;

O'er England's abbeys bends the sky
As on its friends with kindred eye;
For out of Thought's interior sphere
These wonders rose to upper air,

And nature gladly gave them place,

Adopted them into her race,

And granted them an equal date

With Andes and with Ararat.

These temples grew as grows the grass,
Art might obey but not surpass.

The passive Master lent his hand

To the vast soul that o'er him planned,

And the same power that reared the shrine,

Bestrode the tribes that knelt within.

Even the fiery Pentecost

Girds with one flame the Countless host, Trances the heart through chanting quires, And through the priest the mind inspires.

The word unto the prophet spoken
Was writ on tables yet unbroken;
The word by seers or sibyls told
In groves of oak, or fanes of gold,
Still floats upon the morning wind,
Still whispers to the willing mind.
One accent of the Holy Ghost
The heedless world hath never lost.
I know what say the Fathers wise,
The Book itself before me lies,
Old Chrysostom, best Augustine,
And he who blent both in his line,
The younger Golden-lips or mines,
Taylor, the Shakspeare of divines,
His words are music in my ear,
I see his cowled portrait dear,
And yet for all his faith could see,
I would not the good bishop be.

TO RHEA.

THEE, dear friend, a brother soothes, Not with flatteries, but truths,

Which tarnish not, but purify

To light which dims the morning's eye. I have come from the spring-woods,

From the fragrant solitudes;

Listen what the poplar tree,

And murmuring waters counselled me.

If with love thy heart has burned,

If thy love is unreturned,

Hide thy grief within thy breast,
Though it tear thee unexpressed.
For, when love has once departed
From the eyes of the false-hearted,
And one by one has torn off quite
The bandages of purple light,

14

TO RHEA.

Though thou wert the loveliest

Form the Soul had ever drest,

Thou shalt seem in each reply

A vixen to his altered eye;

Thy softest pleadings seem too bold,
Thy praying lute shall seem to scold.
Though thou kept the straightest road,
Yet thou errest far and broad.

But thou shalt do as do the gods

In their cloudless periods:

For of this lore be thou sure,

Though thou forget, the gods secure

Forget never their command,

But make the statute of this land:

As they lead, so follow all,

Ever have done, ever shall.

Warning to the blind and deaf,

'Tis written on the iron leaf,

Who drinks of Cupid's nectar cup

Loveth downward and not up;

Therefore who loves, of gods or men,

Shall not by the same be loved again;

His sweetheart's idolatry

Falls in turn a new degree.

When a god is once beguiled
By beauty of a mortal child,

And by her radiant youth delighted,
He is not fooled, but warily knoweth,
His love shall never be requited;

And thus the wise Immortal doeth.
'Tis his study and delight

To bless that creature, day and night,
From all evils to defend her,

In her lap to pour all splendour,

To ransack earth for riches rare,
And fetch her stars to deck her hair;
He mixes music with her thoughts,

And saddens her with heavenly doubts;
All grace, all good his great heart knows,
Profuse in love the king bestows,

Saying, Hearken, Earth! Sea! Air!

This monument of my despair

Build I to the All-Good, All-Fair.

Not for a private good,

But I from my beatitude,

Albeit scorned as none was scorned,

Adorn her as was none adorned.

I make this maiden an ensample

To nature through her kingdoms ample, Whereby to model newer races,