Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

A dying man on his pillow

Whose white soul fled to his face, Puts on her garment of joyfulness

And stretches to Death's embrace.

Passion, rapture, and blindness,
Yearning, aching, and fears,
And Faith and Duty gazing
With steadfast eyes upon tears.

[blocks in formation]

Peace after great tribulation,

And victory hung in the air.

WILLIAM CALDWELL ROSCOE.

Victoria

et per victoriam vit

Tout ou Rien

Lobe.

O LOVE OF GOD!

HOU Grace Divine, encircling all,
A shoreless, soundless sea,
Wherein at last our souls must

fall,

O Love of God most free.

When over dizzy heights we go,

One soft hand blinds our eyes,

The other leads us safe and slow,
O Love of God most wise!

And though we turn us from Thy face,
And wander wide and long,

Thou hold'st us still in Thine embrace,
O Love of God most strong!

The saddened heart, the restless soul,
The toil-worn frame and mind,
Alike confess Thy sweet control,
O Love of God most kind.

But not alone Thy care we claim,
Our wayward steps to win;
We know Thee by a dearer name,
O Love of God within.

And filled and quickened by Thy breath,
Our souls are strong and free

To rise o'er sin and fear and death,

O Love of God! to Thee.

ELIZA SCUDder.

A VALEDICTION.

God be with thee, my belovèd,--GOD be with thee! Else alone thou goest forth,

Thy face unto the North,

Moor and pleasaunce all around thee and beneath thee

Looking equal in one snow;

While I who try to reach thee
Vainly follow, vainly follow,

With the farewell and the hollo,

And cannot reach thee so.

Alas, I can but teach thee!

GOD be with thee, my beloved,-GOD be with thee.

Can I teach thee, my beloved,—can I teach thee?
If I said, "Go left or right,"

The counsel would be light,

The wisdom, poor of all that could enrich thee; My right would show like left;

My raising would depress thee,

My choice of light would blind thee,
Of way, would leave behind thee,
Of end, would leave bereft.

Alas, I can but bless thee !

May GOD teach thee, my beloved, may God teach

thee.

Can I bless thee, my belovèd,—can I bless thee?

What blessing word can I

From mine own tears keep dry?

What flowers grow in my field wherewith to dress thee? My good reverts to ill;

My calmnesses would move thee,

My softnesses would prick thee,
My bindings up would break thee,
My crownings, curse and kill.

Alas, I can but love thee!

May God bless thee, my beloved,-may God bless

thee !

Can I love thee, my beloved--can I love thee ?
And is this like love, to stand

With no help in my hand,

When, strong as death, I fain would watch above thee!

My love-kiss can deny

No tear that falls beneath it ;
Mine oath of love can swear thee
From no ill that cometh near thee,
And thou diest while I breathe it,
And I,-I can but die !

May GOD love thee, my beloved

may GOD love

thee !

E. B. BROWNING.

LOVE'S DEEP LIFE.

OUR love is not a fading, earthly flower :
Its winged seed dropped down from Paradise,
And, nursed by day and night, by sun and shower,
Doth momently to fresher beauty rise.

To us the leafless Autumn is not bare,

Nor Winter's rattling boughs lack lusty green:
Our summer hearts make Summer's fulness, where
No leaf, or bud, or blossom may be seen.
For Nature's life in Love's deep life doth lie—
Love, whose forgetfulness is Beauty's death,
Whose mystic key these cells of Thou and I
Into the infinite freedom openeth,

« ZurückWeiter »