Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? I have liv'd my life, and that which I have done

May He within himself make pure! but thou,

If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Wherefore,

Than this world dreams of. let thy voice

Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of

prayer

Both for themselves and those who call them friend?

For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seëst—if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)

To the island-valley of Avilion ;

Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns

And bowery hollows crown'd with summer

Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn,

And on the mere the wailing died away.

RIZPAH

WAILING, Wailing, wailing, the wind over land and sea —

And Willy's voice in the wind, "O mother, come out to me."

Why should he call me to-night, when he knows that I cannot go ?

For the downs are as bright as day, and the full moon stares at the snow.

We should be seen, my dear; they would spy us out of the town.

The loud black nights for us, and the storm rushing over the down, When I cannot see my own hand, but am led by the creak of the chain, And grovel and grope for my son till I find myself drench'd with the rain.

Anything fallen again? nay - what was there left to fall?

I have taken them home, I have number'd the bones, I have hidden them all. What am I saying? and what are you? do you come as a spy?

Falls? what falls? who knows? As the tree falls so must it lie.

And the jailer forced me away. I had bid him my last goodbye ; They had fasten'd the door of his cell, "O mother!" I heard him cry.

I could n't get back tho' I tried, he had something further to say, And now I never shall know it. The jailer forced me away.

Then since I could n't but hear that cry of

my boy that was dead,

They seiz'd me and shut me up: they fasten'd me down on my bed.

* Mother, O mother:" he call'd in the dark to me year after year