Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away. Hold thou the good; define it well; For fear divine Philosophy Should push beyond her mark, and be Oh yet we trust that somehow good But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry. So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life. The great world's altar-stairs, xxxiii. Stanza 1. That slope through darkness up to God. Stanza 4. Iri. Stanza 5. Who battled for the True, the Just. 1 See Shakespeare, page 144. 2 I sing but as the linnet sings. - GOETHE: Wilhelm Meister, book ii chap. xi. 8 See Crabbe, page 444. And grasps the skirts of happy chance, In Memoriam. lxiv. Stanza 2. And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne. So many worlds, so much to do, So little done, such things to be. Thy leaf has perish'd in the green, And while we breathe beneath the sun, The world, which credits what is done, Is cold to all that might have been. O last regret, regret can die! There lives more faith in honest doubt, Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in! Stanza 5. Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Stanza 7. Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace! Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand! Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be ! And thus he bore without abuse The grand old name of gentleman, Stanza 8. cxi. Stanza 6. Some novel power Sprang up forever at a touch, And hope could never hope too much In watching thee from hour to hour. In Memoriam. cxii. Stanza 3. Large elements in order brought, Of learning lightly like a flower. One God, one law, one element, To which the whole creation moves. Stanza 4. Conclusion. Stanza 10. Stanza 36. RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (LORD But on and up, where Nature's heart Beats strong amid the hills. Tragedy of the Lac de Gaube. Stanza 2. Great thoughts, great feelings came to them, Like instincts, unawares. The Men of Old. A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet. I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still. The beating of my own heart Ibid. The Brookside. Ibid Their discords sting through Burns and Moore, Like hedgehogs dressed in lace. The Music-Grinders. You think they are crusaders sent And dock the tail of Rhyme, And break the legs of Time. Ibid. And since, I never dare to write As funny as I can. The Height of the Ridiculous. When the last reader reads no more. The Last Reader. The freeman casting with unpurchased hand Yes, child of suffering, thou mayst well be sure And when you stick on conversation's burrs, Thine eye was on the censer, And not the hand that bore it. Where go the poet's lines? Answer, ye evening tapers! Ibid. Lines by a Clerk. Speak from your folded papers! A few can touch the magic string, The Poet's Lot. And noisy Fame is proud to win them; Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them! O hearts that break and give no sign Save whitening lip and fading tresses! The Voiceless. Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Ibid. Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! The Chambered Nautilus. |
