Yet both are near, and both are dear,
And which the dearest I cannot tell!"
But the Priest was happy,

His victim won:

"We have his dearest,

His only son !"

VI.

The rites prepared, the victim bared,
The knife uprising toward the blow,
To the altar-stone she sprang alone,
"Me, not my darling, no!"

He caught her away with a sudden cry;
Suddenly from him brake his wife,
And shrieking "I am his dearest, I—

I am his dearest!" rush'd on the knife.
And the Priest was happy,

"O, Father Odin,

We give you a life.

Which was his nearest?

Who was his dearest?

The Gods have answer'd;

We give them the wife!"

WAGES.

G

LORY of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song,

Paid with a voice flying by to be lost on an endless

sea

Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong— Nay, but she aim'd not at glory, no lover of glory she: Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.

The wages of sin is death: if the wages of Virtue be dust, Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm

and the fly?

She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the just, To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer sky: Give her the wages of going on, and not to die.

THE HIGHER PANTHEISM.

HE sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains

Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns?

Is not the Vision He? tho' He be not that which He seems!
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

Earth, these solid stars, this weight of body and limb,
Are they not sign and symbol of thy division from Him?

Dark is the world to thee: thyself art the reason why;
For is He not all but thou, that hast power to feel “I am I?”

Glory about thee, without thee; and thou fulfillest thy doom, Making Him broken gleams, and a stifled splendor and gloom.

Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can

meet

Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.

God is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice,
For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet his voice.

Law is God, say some: no God at all, says the fool;

For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool;

And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man can.

not see;

But if we could see and hear, this Vision-were it not He?

LOWER in the crannied wall,

F1 pluck you out of the crannies,

Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

THE VOICE AND THE PEAK.

HE voice and the Peak

THE

Far over summit and lawn,

The lone glow and long roar

Green-rushing from the rosy thrones of dawn!

All night have I heard the voice

Rave over the rocky bar,

But thou wert silent in heaven,
Above thee glided the star.

Hast thou no voice, O Peak,
That standest high above all?
"I am the voice of the Peak,
I roar and rave for I fall.

"A thousand voices go

To North, South, East, and West;
They leave the heights and are troubled,

And moan and sink to their rest.

"The fields are fair beside them,

The chestnut towers in his bloom;

But they they feel the desire of the deepFall, and follow their doom.

"The deep has power on the height,

And the height has power on the deep;

They are raised for ever and ever,

And sink again into sleep."

Not raised for ever and ever,

But when their cycle is o'er,
The valley, the voice, the peak, the star,

Pass, and are found no more.

The Peak is high and flush'd

At his highest with sunrise fire;

The Peak is high, and the stars are high,

And the thought of a man is higher.

A deep below the deep,

And a height beyond the height!

Our hearing is not hearing,

And our seeing is not sight.

The voice and the Peak
Far into heaven withdrawn,

The lone glow and long roar

Green-rushing from the rosy thrones of dawn!

IN THE GARDEN AT SWAINSTON.

IGHTINGALES warbled without,

Within was weeping for thee:

Shadows of three dead men

Walk'd in the walks with me,

Shadows of three dead men, and thou wast one of the three.

Nightingales sang in his woods:
The Master was far away:

Nightingales warbled and sang

Of a passion that lasts but a day;

Still in the house in his coffin the Prince of courtesy lay.

Two dead men have I known

In courtesy like to thee:

Two dead men have I loved

With a love that ever will be :

Three dead men have I loved, and thou art last of the three.

CHILD-SONGS.

I.

THE CITY CHILD.

DAINTY little maiden, whither would you wander?

Whither from this pretty home, the home where mother dwells?

"Far and far away," said the dainty little maiden, "All among the gardens, auriculas, anemones, Roses and lilies and Canterbury-bells."

Dainty little maiden, whither would you wander?
Whither from this pretty house, this city-house of ours?
"Far and far away," said the dainty little maiden,
"All among the meadows, the clover and the clematis,
Daisies and kingcups and honeysuckle-flowers."