Nor feel the wild flowers blow, nor birds dart by Nor grass grow long above our heads and feet, Nor know who sits in our accustomed seat. Life is not good. One day it will be good To sleep meanwhile; so, not to feel the wane Nor mark the blackened bean-fields, nor, where stood Only dead refuse stubble clothe the plain: THE LOWEST PLACE. [The Prince's Progress etc. 1866. 25 July 1863.] GIVE me the lowest place; not that I dare That I might live and share Thy glory by Thy side. Give me the lowest place: or if for me That lowest place too high, make one more low Where I may sit and see My God and love Thee so. SOMEWHERE OR OTHER. [The Prince's Progress etc. 1866. Towards November 1863.] SOMEWHERE or other there must surely be The heart that not yet-never yet-ah me! Made answer to my word. Somewhere or other, may be near or far; Past land and sea, clean out of sight; Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star That tracks her night by night. Somewhere or other, may be far or near; With just a wall, a hedge, between; With just the last leaves of the dying year Fallen on a turf grown green. IF I HAD WORDS. [New Poems 1896.3 September 1864.] IF I had words, if I had words My heart is broken in my breast, Oh if there be a land of rest It is far off, it is not nigh. I yet would seek the land of love Where fountains run which run not dry: Though there be none that road to tell, And long that road is verily: And if I died I should but die. I would not sift the what and why, I would make haste to Love, my rest- Or if I died I could but die. WEARY IN WELL-DOING. [The Prince's Progress etc. 1866. 22 October 1864.] I WOULD have gone; God bade me stay: Now I would stay; God bids me go: I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me; SHALL I FORGET? [The Prince's Progress etc. 1866. 21 February 1865.] SHALL I forget on this side of the grave? (O my soul, watch with him, and he with me.) Shall I forget in peace of Paradise? I promise nothing: follow, friend, and see, (O my soul, lead the way he walks with me.) DEAD HOPE. [Macmillan's Magazine 1868. - 15 March 1865.] HOPE newborn one pleasant morn Died at even: Hope dead lives nevermore, No not in heaven. If his shroud were but a cloud To weep itself away Or were he buried underground To sprout some day! But dead and gone is dead and gone, Vainly wept upon. Nought we place above his face To mark the spot, But it shows a barren place In our lot. Hope has birth no more on earth Morn or even; Hope dead lives nevermore, No not in heaven. LIFE flows down to death; we cannot bind 2. Wherefore art thou strange, and not my mother? Lying in thy lap, not in another, Farewell, land of love, Italy, Sister-land of Paradise: With mine own feet I have trodden thee, I remember, thou forgettest me, Blessed be the land that warms my heart, 3. Men work and think, but women feel; 30 |