the strife and the sin,

And last in kindly curves, with gentlest fall,
By quiet fields, a slowly-dying power,
To that last deep where we and thou are
still.

II.

I.

DE PROFUNDIS:

THE TWO GREETINGS.

I.

OUT of the deep, my child, out of the deep,

Where all that was to be, in all that was, Whirl'd for a million æons thro' the vast Waste dawn of multitudinous-eddying

light

deep,

From that great deep, before our world

begins,

Whereon the Spirit of God moves as he

will

Out of the deep, my child, out of the

deep,

From that true world within the world we see,

Whereof our world is but the bounding shore

Out of the deep, Spirit, out of the deep, With this ninth moon, that sends the hidden sun

deep,

And red with blood the Crescent reels from fight

French of the French, and Lord of human tears;

Before their dauntless hundreds, in prone

flight

Child-lover; Bard whose fame-lit laurels glance

XIII.

Also the brethren,

King and Atheling,

Each in his glory,

Went to his own in his own West-Saxɔnland,

Glad of the war.

XIV.

Many a carcase they left to be carrion, Many a livid one, many a sallow-skinLeft for the white-tail'd eagle to tear it, and

Left for the horny-nibb'd raven to rend it, and

Gave to the garbaging war-hawk to gorge it, and

That gray beast, the wolf of the weald.

XV.

Never had huger
Slaughter of heroes
Slain by the sword-edge-
Such as old writers
Have writ of in histories-
Hapt in this isle, since
Up from the East hither
Saxon and Angle from
Over the broad billow
Broke into Britain with
Haughty war-workers who
Harried the Welshman, when
Earls that were lured by the
Hunger of glory gat
Hold of the land.

ACHILLES OVER THE

TRENCH.

ILIAD, Xviii. 202.

So saying, light-foot Iris pass'd away. Then rose Achilles dear to Zeus; and round

The warrior's puissant shoulders Pallas flung

Her fringed ægis, and around his head The glorious goddess wreath'd a golden

cloud,

And from it lighted an all-shining flame.

As when a smoke from a city goes to heaven

Far off from out an island girt by foes,

All day the men contend in grievous

war

From their own city, but with set of

sun

Their fires flame thickly, and aloft the glare

Flies streaming, if perchance the neighbours round

May see, and sail to help them in the

war;

So from his head the splendour went to heaven.

From wall to dyke he stept, he stood, nor join'd

The Achæans-honouring his wise mother's word

There standing, shouted, and Pallas far

away

Call'd; and a boundless panic shook the

foe.

For like the clear voice when a trumpet

shrills,

Blown by the fierce beleaguerers of a

town,

So rang the clear voice of Æakidês ;
And when the brazen cry of Æakidês
Was heard among the Trojans, all their
hearts

Were troubled, and the full-maned horses whirl'd

The chariots backward, knowing griefs at hand;

And sheer-astounded were the charioteers
To see the dread, unweariable fire
That always o'er the great Peleion's
head

Burn'd, for the bright-eyed goddess made it burn.

Thrice from the dyke he sent his mighty shout,

Thrice backward reel'd the Trojans and allies;

And there and then twelve of their noblest

died

Among their spears and chariots.