D ONE lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee, One lesson which in every wind is blown, as) One lesson of two duties kept at one Though the loud world proclaim their enmity--| Of toil unsever'd from tranquillity! Of labour, that in lasting fruit outgrows Yes, while on earth a thousand discords ring, Still do thy sleepless ministers move on, e Their glorious tasks in silence perfecting ; Labourers that shall not fail, when man is gone. B SONNETS IND TO A FRIEND WHO prop, thou ask'st, in these bad days, my mind?— Much he, whose friendship I not long since won, Taught Arrian, when Vespasian's brutal son But be his My special thanks, whose even-balanced soul, Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole; Singer of sweet Colonus, and its child. SHAKESPEARE OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask-Thou smilest and art still, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, C Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure, Didst tread on earth unguess'd at.—Better so! All pains the immortal spirit must endure, WRITTEN IN EMERSON'S ESSAYS "O MONSTROUs, dead, unprofitable world, That thou canst hear, and hearing, hold thy way! A voice oracular hath peal'd to-day, To-day a hero's banner is unfurl'd; Hast thou no lip for welcome ?"—So I said. Man after man, the world smiled and pass'd by; A smile of wistful incredulity As though one spake of life unto the dead Scornful, and strange, and sorrowful, and full The seeds of godlike power are in us still; WRITTEN IN BUTLER'S SERMONS AFFECTIONS, Instincts, Principles, and Powers, Vain labour ! Deep and broad, where none may see, And rays her powers, like sister-islands seen Or cluster'd peaks with plunging gulfs between Spann'd by aërial arches all of gold, Whereo'er the chariot wheels of life are roll'd TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON ON HEARING HIM MISPRAISED BECAUSE thou hast believed, the wheels of life Not by their hands, who vex the patient ground, Of all its chafing torrents after thaw, Urged; and to feed whose movement, spinning sand, The feeble sons of pleasure set their hand; And, in this vision of the general law, |