WAGES

GLORY of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song, Paid with a voice flying by to be lost on an endless sea

Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong

Nay, but she aim'd not at glory, no lover of glory she:

Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.

The wages of sin is death if the wages of Virtue be dust,

Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly?

She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the just,

To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a

summer sky :

Give her the wages of going on, and not to die.

THE HIGHER PANTHEISM

THE sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains

Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns?

Is not the Vision He? tho' He be not that which He seems ?

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams ?

Earth, these solid stars, this weight of body and limb,

Are they not sign and symbol of thy division from Him ?

Dark is the world to thee: thyself art the reason why;

For is He not all but that which has power to feel I am I'?

Glory about thee, without thee; and thou fulfillest thy doom

Making Him broken gleams, and a stifled splendour and gloom.

Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet—

Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.

God is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice,

For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice.

Law is God, say some: no God at all, says the

fool;

For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool;

And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of

man cannot see ;

But if we could see and hear, this Vision—were it not He?

THE VOICE AND THE PEAK

I

THE Voice and the Peak

Far over summit and lawn, The lone glow and long roar

Green-rushing from the rosy thrones of dawn!

II

All night have I heard the voice
Rave over the rocky bar,
But thou wert silent in heaven,
Above thee glided the star.

III

Hast thou no voice, O Peak,
That standest high above all?
'I am the voice of the Peak,
I roar and rave for I fall.

IV

'A thousand voices go

To North, South, East, and West; They leave the heights and are troubled, And moan and sink to their rest.

V

The fields are fair beside them,

The chestnut towers in his bloom;

But they they feel the desire of the deep— Fall, and follow their doom.

VI

The deep has power on the height,
And the height has power on the deep;
They are raised for ever and ever,

And sink again into sleep.'

VII

Not raised for ever and ever,
But when their cycle is o'er,

The valley, the voice, the peak, the star
Pass, and are found no more.