In a serene air purely. Antidotes

Of medicated music, answering for

The silver iterance! only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul.

Mankind's forlornest uses, thou canst pour From thence into their ears.

devotes

God's will

Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago,
What time I sate alone here in the snow
And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
No moment at thy voice, but link by link
Went counting all my chains as if that so
They never could fall off at any blow

Struck by thy possible hand, — why, thus I drink a

Of life's great cup of wonder. Wonderful, C
Never to feel thee thrill the day or night 10
With personal act or speech, nor ever cull
Some prescience of thee with the blossoms
white
Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull, C
Who cannot guess God's presence out of sight.

XXI

Say over again and yet once over again That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated

Should seem "a cuckoo-song,"1 as thou dost treat it,

Remember never to the hill or plain,

Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain, Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed!

Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted

By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain

Cry, "Speak once more, thou lovest!" Who can fear

Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll

ΙΟ

XXII

When our two souls stand up erect and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curvèd point, What bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long

Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,

The angels would press on us, and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Rather on earth, Beloved, - where the unfit,
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.

XXVIII

II

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height f

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

Ay, be silent! Let them hear each other breathing

90

For a moment, mouth to mouth! Let them touch each other's hands, in a fresh wreathing

Of their tender human youth! Let them feel that this cold metallic motion Is not all the life God fashions or reveals:

Let them prove their living souls against the notion

That they live in you, or under you, O
wheels!

Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,
Grinding life down from its mark;

And the children's souls, which God is calling sunward,

Spin on blindly in the dark.

100

Now tell the poor young children, O my brothers,

To look up to Him and pray;

So the blessed One who blesseth all the others,

Will bless them another day.

They answer, "Who is God that He should hear us,

While the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred ?

When we sob aloud, the human creatures

near us

Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a word.

And we hear not (for the wheels in their resounding)

110

Strangers speaking at the door : Is it likely God, with angels singing round Him, Hears our weeping any more?

"Two words, indeed, of praying we remember; And at midnight's hour of harm,

'Our Father,' looking upward in the chamber, We say softly for a charm.

We know no other words, except 'Our Father.' And we think that, in some pause of angels' song,

God may pluck them with the silence sweet to gather,

And hold both within His right hand which is strong.

120

'Our Father!' If He heard us, He would surely

(For they call Him good and mild) Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely,

Come and rest with me, my child.'