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Answered : “ What is there that can Some comrades who were playing at the satisfy
dice, The endless craving of the soul but love? He joined them, and forgot all else beGive me thy love, or but the hope of that side. Which must be evermore my nature's goal."
| The dice were rattling at the mer. After a little pause she said again,
riest, But with a glimpse of sadness in her And Rhæcus, who had met but sorry tone,
luck, “I give it, Rhocus, though a perilous Just laughed in triumph at a happy gift;
throw, An hour before the sunset meet me here." When through the room there hummed And straightway there was nothing he I a yellow bee could see
That buzzed about his ear with down. But the green glooms beneath the shad- dropped legs owy oak,
As if to light. And Rhoecus laughed And not a sound came to his straining and said, ears
Feeling how red and flushed he was with But the low trickling rustle of the leaves, loss, And far away upon an emerald slope “By Venus ! does he take me for a The falter of an idle shepherd's pipe.
And brushed him off with rough, imNow, in those days of simpleness and patient hand. faith,
But still the bee came back, and thrice Men did not think that happy things again were dreams
Rhæcus did beat him off with growing Because they overstepped the narrow wrath. bourn
Then through the window flew the Of likelihood, but reverently deemed
wounded bee, Nothing too wondrous or too beautiful And Rhæcus, tracking him with angry To be the guerdon of a daring heart.
eyes, So Rhæcus made no doubt that he was Saw a sharp mountain-peak of Thessaly
| Against the red disk of the setting sun, And all along unto the city's gate And instantly the blood sank from his Earth seemed to spring beneath him as heart, he walked,
As if its very walls had caved away. The clear, broad sky looked bluer than Without a word he turned, and, rushing its wont,
forth, And he could scarce believe he had not Ran madly through the city and the gate, wings,
And o'er the plain, which now the wood's Such sunshine seemed to glitter through long shade, his veins
By the low sun thrown forward broad Instead of blood, so light he felt and and dim, strange.
Darkened wellnigh unto the city's wall. Young Rhæcus had a faithful heart Quite spent and out of breath he enough,
reached the tree, But one that in the present dwelt too And, listening fearfully, he heard once much,
more And, taking with blithe welcome what. The low voice murmur“Rhecus !” close soe'er
at hand: Chance gave of joy, was wholly bound Whereat he looked around him, but could in that,
see Like the contented peasant of a vale, Naught but the deepening glooms beDeemed it the world, and never looked neath the oak. beyond.
Then sighed the voice, "O Rhcocus! So, haply meeting in the afternoon
Shalt thou behold me or by day or night, The winds not better love to pilot Me, who would fain have blessed thee A cloud with molten gold o'errun, with a love
Than him, a little burning islet,
For with a lark's heart he doth tower,
By a glorious upward instinct drawn ; senger, And sent'st him back to me with bruised
No bee nestles deeper in the flower
Than he in the bursting rose of dawn. wings. We spirits only show to gentle eyes, No harmless dove, no bird that singeth, We ever ask an undivided love,
Shudders to see him overhead ; And he who scorns the least of Nature's The rush of his fierce swooping bringeth works
To innocent hearts no thrill of dread. Is thenceforth exiled and shut out from all.
Let fraud and wrong and baseness shiver, Farewell! for thou canst never see me.
For still between them and the sky more."
The falcon Truth hangs poised forever
And marks them with his vengeful eye. Then Rhecus beat his breast, and groaned aloud,
WHETHER the idle prisoner through his “Alas !” the voice returned, “'t is thou grate art blind,
Watches the waving of the grass-tuft Not I unmerciful; I can forgive,
small, But have no skill to heal thy spirit's Which, having colonized its rift i' th’ eyes;
I wall, Only the soul hath power o'er itself.” Accepts God's dole of good or evil fate, With that again there murmured “Nev. And from the sky's just helmet draws its
ermore!” And Rhcecus after heard no other sound, Daily of shower or sunshine, cold or Except the rattling of the oak's crisp hot :leaves,
Whether the closer captive of a creed, Like the long surf upon a distant shore, Cooped up from birth to grind out endRaking the sea-worn pebbles up and less chaff, down.
Sees through his treadmill-bars the noonThe night had gathered round him: o'er day laugh, the plain
And feels in vain his crumpled pinions The city sparkled with its thousand breed ; lights,
Whether the Georgian slave look up and And sounds of revel fell upon his ear
mark, Harshly and like a curse; above, the sky, With bellying sails puffed full, the tall With all its bright sublimity of stars,
cloud-bark Deepened, and on his forehead smote the Sink northward slowly, — thou alone breeze :
seem'st good, Beauty was all around him and de- Fair only thou, O Freedom, whose desire light,
Can light in muddiest souls quick seeds But from that eve he was alone on earth. of fire,
| And strain life's chords to the old heroic
mood. THE FALCON. I KNOW a falcon swift and peerless Yet are there other gifts more fair than As e'er was cradled in the pine;
thine, No bird had ever eye so fearless, Nor can I count him happiest who has Or wing so strong as this of mine.
Been forced with his own hand his chains And have predestined sway: all other to sever,
things, And for himself find out the way divine; Except by leave of us, could never be. He never knew the aspirer's glorious For Destiny is but the breath of God pains,
Still moving in us, the last fragment left He never earned the struggle's priceless Of our unfallen nature, waking oft gains.
Within our thought, to beckon us beO, block by block, with sore and sharp yond endeavor,
The narrow circle of the seen and known, Lifelong we build these human natures And always tending to a noble end, up
As all things must that overrule the soul, Into a temple fit for Freedom's shrine, And for a space unseat the helmsman, And Trial ever consecrates the cup
Will. Wherefrom we pour her sacrificial wine. The fate of England and of freedom once
Seemed wavering in the heart of one
plain man: A GLANCE BEHIND THE CURTAIN. One step of his, and the great dial-hand,
That marks the destined progress of the We see but half the causes of our deeds, world Seeking them wholly in the outer life, In the eternal round from wisdom on And heedless of the encircling spirit. To higher wisdom, had been made to world,
pause Which, though unseen, is felt, and sows A hundred years. That step he did not in us
take, All germs of pure and world-wide pur. He knew not why, nor we, but only poses.
God, From one stage of our being to the next And lived to make his simple oaken chair We pass unconscious o'er a slender bridge, More terrible and soberly august, The momentary work of unseen hands, More full of majesty than any throne, Which crumbles down behind us; look. Before or after, of a British king.
ing back, We see the other shore, the gulf between, Upon the pier stood two stern-visaged And, marvelling how we won to where men, we stand,
Looking to where a little craft lay Content ourselves to call the builder moored, Chance.
Swayed by the lazy current of the We trace the wisdom to the apple's fall,
Thames, Not to the birth-throes of a mighty Which weltered by in muddy listlessness. Truth
Grave men they were, and battlings of Which, for long ages in blank Chaos fierce thought dumb,
Had trampled out all softness from their Yet yearned to be incarnate, and had brows, found
| And ploughed rough furrows there before At last a spirit meet to be the womb
their time, From which it might be born to bless For other crop than such as homebred mankind,
Peace Not to the soul of Newton, ripe with all Sows broadcast in the willing soil of The hoarded thoughtfulness of earnest Youth. years,
Care, not of self, but for the common. And waiting but one ray of sunlight weal, more
Had robbed their eyes of youth, and left To blossom fully.
A look of patient power and iron will, But whence came that ray? And something fiercer, too, that gave We call our sorrows Destiny, but ought broad hint Rather to name our high successes so. Of the plain weapons girded at their Only the instincts of great souls are Fate, sides.
The younger had an aspect of com- | Will not say No to please a wayward
mand, Not such as trickles down, a slender Nor will the winds turn traitors at his
beck: In the shrunk channel of a great de. All things are fitly cared for, and the scent,
Lord But such as lies entowered in heart and Will watch as kindly o'er the exodus head,
Of us his servants now, as in old time. And an arm prompt to do the 'hests of We have no cloud or fire, and haply we both.
May not pass dry-shod through the His was a brow where gold were out of ocean-stream; place,
But, saved or lost, all things are in His And yet it seemed right worthy of a hand." crown
So spake he, and meantime the other (Though he despised such), were it only stood made
With wide gray eyes still reading the Of iron, or some serviceable stuff
blank air, That would have matched his brownly As if upon the sky's blue wall he saw rugged face.
Some mystic sentence, written by a hand, The elder, although such he hardly Such as of old made pale the Assyrian
seemed (Care makes so little of some five short Girt with his satraps in the blazing feast.
years), Had a clear, honest face, whose rough- “HAMPDEN! a moment since, my hewn strength
purpose was Was mildened by the scholar's wiser To fly with thee, – for I will call it heart
Alight, To sober courage, such as best befits Nor flatter it with any smoother name, The unsullied temper of a well-taught But something in ine bids me not to go; mind,
And I am one, thou knowest, who, unYet so remained that one could plainly moved guess
By what the weak deem omens, yet give The hushed volcano smouldering under heed neath.
And reverence due to whatsoe'er my soul He spoke: the other, hearing, kept his Whispers of warning to the inner ear. gaze
Moreover, as I know that God brings Still fixed, as on some problem in the round sky.
His purposes in ways undreamed by us,
And makes the wicked but his instru. “O CROMWELL, we are fallen on evil ments times !
To hasten their own swift and sudden fall, There was a day when England had wide | I see the beauty of his providence room
In the King's order : blind, he will not For honest men as well as foolish kings : let But now the uneasy stomach of the time His doom part from him, but must bid Turns squeamish at them both. There it stay fore let us
As 't were a cricket, whose enlivening Seek out that savage clime, where men
chirp as yet
Heloved to hear beneath his very hearth. re free: there sleeps the vessel on the Why should we fly? Nay, why not
rather stay Her languid canvas drooping for the And rear again onr Zion's crumbled wind;
walls, Give us but that, and what need we to Not, as of old the walls of Thebes were fear
built, This Order of the Council? The free By minstrel twanging, but, if need
With the more potent music of our A noble purpose to a noble end, swords?
Although it be the gallows or the block ? Think'st thou that score of men beyond 'T is only Falsehood that doth ever need the sea
| These outward shows of gain to bolster Claim more God's care than all of Eng. her. land here?
Be it we prove the weaker with our No: when He moves His arm, it is to swords ; aid
Truth only needs to be for once spoke Whole peoples, heedless if a few be out, crushed,
| And there's such music in her, such As some are ever, when the destiny
strange rhythm, Of man takes one stride onward nearer As makes men's memories her joyous home.
slaves, Believe me, 't is the mass of men He And clings around the soul, as the sky loves;
clings And, where there is most sorrow and Round the mute earth, forever beauti
most want, Where the high heart of man is trodden And, if o'erclouded, only to burst forth down
More all-embracingly divine and clear : The most, 't is not because He hides His Get but the truth once uttered, and 't is face
like From them in wrath, as purblind teach-A star new-born, that drops into its ers prate :
place, Not so: there most is He, for there is And which, once circling in its placid He
round, Most needed. Men who seek for Fate Not all the tumult of the earth can abroad
shake. Are not so near His heart as they who | dare
| “What should we do in that small Frankly to face her where she faces them,
colony On theirown threshold, where their souls of pinched fanatics, who would rather are strong
choose To grapple with and throw her; as I Freedom to clip an inch more from their once,
hair, Being yet a boy, did cast this puny king, Than the great chance of setting EngWho now has grown so dotard as to land free?
Not there, amid the stormy wilderness, That he can wrestle with an angry realm, Should we learn wisdom; or if learned, And throw the brawned Antæus of men's what room rights.
To put it into act, - else worse than No, Hampden! they have half-way con. naught? quered Fate
We learn our souls more, tossing for an Who go half-way to meet her, – as hour will I.
Upon this huge and ever-vexëd sea Freedom hath yet a work for me to do; of human thought, where kingdoms go So speaks that inward voice which never
to wreck yet
Like fragile bubbles yonder in the Spake falsely, when it urged the spirit on
stream, To noble emprise for country and man- Than in a cycle of New England sloth, kind.
| Broke only by a petty Indian war, And, for success, I ask no more than or quarrel for a letter more or less this,
In some hard word, which, spelt in To bear unflinching witness to the truth. either way, All true whole men succeed; for what is not their most learnëd clerks can un. worth
derstand. Success's name, unless it be the thought, New times demand new measures and The inward surety, to have carried out 1 nei men;