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CXXHI

THAT which we dare invoke to bless; Our dearest faith; our ghastliest doubt; He, They, One, All; within, without; The Power in darkness whom we guess;

I found Him not in world or sun,

Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye: Nor thro' the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun:

If e'er, when faith had fall'n asleep,

I heard a voice, "Believe no more," And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep;

A warmth within the breast would melt
The freezing reason's colder part,
And like a man in wrath the heart
Stood up and answer'd, "I have felt."

No, like a child in doubt and fear:

But that blind clamor made me wise: Then was I as a child that cries, But, crying, knows his father near;

And what I am beheld again

What is, and no man understands; And out of darkness came the hands That reach thro' nature, moulding men.

EXXIV.

WHATEVER I have said or sung,
Some bitter notes my harp would give,
Yea, tho' there often seem'd to live
A contradiction on the tongue,

Yet Hope had never lost her youth; She did but look thro' dimmer eyes; Or Love but play'd with gracious lies Because he felt so fix'd in truth:

And if the song were full of care,

He breathed the spirit of the song;

And if the words were sweet and strong, He set his royal signet there;

Abiding with me till I sail

To seek thee on the mystic deeps, And this electric force, that keeps A thousand pulses dancing, fail.

-exxv. C XV !

LOVE is and was my Lord and King,

And in his presence I attend
To hear the tidings of my friend,
Which every hour his couriers bring.

Love is and was my King and Lord,

And will be, tho' as yet I keep Within his court on earth, and sleep Encompass'd by his faithful guard,

And hear at times a sentinel

Who moves about from place to place, And whispers to the worlds of space, In the deep night, that all is well.

CXXVI.

AND all is well, tho' faith and form.
Be sunder'd in the night of fear:
Well roars the storm to those that hear
A deeper voice across the storm,

Proclaiming social truth shall spread,
And justice, ev'n tho' thrice again
The red fool-fury of the Seine

Should pile her barricades with dead.

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