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Then Death will come, and, unrelenting,
Brand her with sorrowful long regret.

Seek farther, farther yet, oh Dove !
Beyond the Land, beyond the Sea,
There shall be rest for thee and me,
For thee and me and those I love.

I heard a promise gently fall,
I heard a far-off Shepherd call
The weary and the broken-hearted,
Promising rest unto each and all.

It is not marred by outward strife,
It is not lost in calm repose,
It heedeth neither joys nor woes,
Is not disturbed by death or life;

Through, and beyond them, lies our Rest :
Then cease, oh Heart, thy longing quest !
And thou, my Dove, with silver pinions
Flutter again to thy quiet nest !


TEXT was midnight when I listened,

And I heard two Voices speak;

One was harsh, and stern, and cruel,
And the other soft and weak :
Yet I saw no Vision enter,

And I heard no steps depart,
Of this Tyrant and his Captive, ...

Fate it might be and a Heart.


Thus the stern Voice spake in triumph :

“I have shut your life away From the radiant world of nature,

And the perfumed light of day. You, who loved to steep your spirit

In the charm of Earth's delight, See no glory of the daytime,

And no sweetness of the night.”

But the soft Voice answered calmly:

“ Nay, for when the March winds bring Just a whisper to my window,

I can dream the rest of Spring; And to-day I saw a Swallow

Flitting past my prison bars, And my cell has just one corner

Whence at night I see the stars."

But its bitter taunt repeating,

Cried the harsh Voice:—“ Where are theyAll the friends of former hours,

Who forget your name to-day? All the links of love are shattered,

Which you thought so strong before; And your very heart is lonely,

And alone since loved no more.”

But the low Voice spoke still lower :

“ Nay, I know the golden chain Of my Love is purer, stronger,

For the cruel fire of pain : They remember me no longer,

But I, grieving here alone,

Bind their souls to me for ever

By the love within my own.”

But the Voice cried :-“ Once remember

You devoted soul and mind
To the welfare of your brethren,

And the service of your kind.
Now, what sorrow can you comfort ?

You, who lie in helpless pain, With an impotent compassion

Fretting out your life in vain.”

“ Nay;" and then the gentle answer

Rose more loud, and full, and clear : “ For the sake of all my brethren

I thank God that I am here!
Poor had been my Life's best efforts,

Now I waste no thought or breath-
For the prayer of those who suffer

Has the strength of Love and Death.”



RUST me, no mere skill of subtle tracery,

No mere practice of a dexterous hand,

Will suffice, without a hidden spirit, That we may, or may not, understand.

And those quaint old fragments that are left us

Have their power in this,—the Carver brought Earnest care, and reverent patience, only

Worthily to clothe some noble thought.

Shut then in the petals of the flowers,

Round the stems of all the lilies twine, Hide beneath each bird's or angel's pinion,

Some wise meaning or some thought divine.

Place in stony hands that pray for ever

Tender words of peace, and strive to wind Round the leafy scrolls and fretted niches

Some true, loving message to your kind.

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