On the lady's head and face intent;

For, coiled at her feet like a child at ease,
The lady sat between her knees

And o'er them the lady's clasped hands met,

And on those hands her chin was set,

And her upturned face met the face of the crone
Wherein the eyes had grown and grown
As if she could double and quadruple
At pleasure the play of either pupil
-Very like by her hands slow fanning,
As up and down like a gor-crow's flappers
They moved to measure like bell-clappers.
I said, is it blessing, is it banning,
Do they applaud you or burlesque you,
Those hands and fingers with no flesh on?

When, just as I thought to spring in to the rescue,
At once I was stopped by the lady's expression;
For it was life her eyes were drinking
From the crone's wide pair above unwinking,
Life's pure fire received without shrinking,
Into the heart and breast whose heaving

Told you no single drop they were leaving—
Life, that filling her, passed redundant

Into her very hair, back swerving

Over each shoulder, loose and abundant,

As her head thrown back showed the white throat

curving,

And the very tresses shared in the pleasure,

Moving to the mystic measure,

Bounding as the bosom bounded.

I stopped short, more and more confounded,
As still her cheeks burned and eyes glistened,
As she listened and she listened:

When all at once a hand detained me,
And the selfsame contagion gained me,
My heart kept time to the wondrous chime,
I made out words and prose and rhyme,
Till it seemed that the music furled
Its wings like a task fulfilled, and dropped
From under the words it first had propped,
And left them midway in the world,
And word took word as hand takes hand,
I could hear at last and understand,
And when I held the unbroken thread,

"And so at last we find my tribe,
And so I set thee in the midst,
And to one and all of them describe
What thou saidst and what thou didst,
Our long and terrible journey thro',
And all thou art ready to say and do
In the trials that remain :

I trace them the vein and the other vein
That meet on thy brow and part again,
Making our rapid mystic mark;
And I bid my people prove and probe
Each eye's profound and glorious globe
Till they detect the kindred spark
In those depths so dear and dark,

Like the spots that snap, and burst, and flee,

Circling over the midnight sea.

And on that young round cheek of thine

I make them recognise the tinge,

As when of the costly scarlet wine
They drip so much as will impinge

And spread in a thinnest scale afloat

One thick gold drop from the olive's coat
Over a silver plate whose sheen

Still thro' the mixture shall be seen.
For, so I prove thee, to one and all,
Fit, when my people ope their breast,
To see the sign, and hear the call,

To take the vow, and stand the test
Which adds one more child to the rest,

When the breast is bare and the arms are wide,
And the world is left outside.

For there is probation to decree,

And many and long must the trials be

Thou shalt victoriously endure,

If that brow is true and those eyes are sure;

Like a jewel-finder's fierce assay

Of the prize he dug from its mountain tomb,--

Let once the vindicating ray

Leap out amid the anxious gloom,

And steel and fire have done their part

And the prize falls on its finder's heart;

So, trial after trial past,

Wilt thou fall at the very last

Breathless, half in trance

With the thrill of the great deliverance,

Into our arms for evermore;

And thou shalt know, those arms once curled

About thee, what we knew before,

How love is the only good in the world.

Henceforth be loved as heart can love,
Or brain devise, or hand approve!

Stand up, look below,

It is our life at thy feet we throw

To step with into light and joy;
Not a power of life but we'll employ
To satisfy thy nature's want;

Art thou the tree that props the plant,

Or the climbing-plant that seeks the tree?
Canst thou help us, must we help thee ?—
If any two creatures grew into one,

They would do more than the world has done;
Tho' each apart were never so weak,

Yet vainly thro' the world should ye seek

For the knowledge and the might
Which in such union grew their right;
So, to approach, at least, that end,
And blend,- —as much as may be, blend
Thee with us or us with thee,

As climbing-plant or propping-tree,
Shall some one deck thee, over and down,
Up and about, with blossoms and leaves,
Fix his heart's fruit for thy garland-crown,
Cling with his soul as the gourd-vine cleaves,
Die on thy boughs and disappear

While not a leaf of thine is sere?
Or is the other fate in store,
And art thou fitted to adore,
To give thy wondrous self away,
And take a stronger nature's sway?
I foresee and I could foretell

Thy future portion, sure and well—

But those passionate eyes speak true, speak true,

And let them say what thou shalt do!

Only, be sure thy daily life,
In its peace, or in its strife,
Never shall be unobserved;

We pursue thy whole career,

And hope for it, or doubt, or fear,—

Lo, hast thou kept thy path or swerved,
We are beside thee, in all thy ways,
With our blame, with our praise,

Our shame to feel, our pride to show,
Glad, angry-but indifferent, no!
Whether it is thy lot to go,

For the good of us all, where the haters meet
In the crowded city's horrible street;

Or thou step alone thro' the morass
Where never sound yet was

Save the dry quick clap of the stork's bill,
For the air is still, and the water still,
When the blue breast of the dipping coot
Dives under, and all again is mute.
So at the last shall come old age,

Decrepit as befits that stage;

How else wouldst thou retire apart

With the hoarded memories of thy heart,

And gather all to the very least

Of the fragments of life's earlier feast,
Let fall through eagerness to find
The crowning dainties yet behind?
Ponder on the entire past

Laid together thus at last,

When the twilight helps to fuse

The first fresh, with the faded hues,

And the outline of the whole,

As round eve's shades their framework roll,

Grandly fronts for once thy soul:

And then as, 'mid the dark, a gleam

Of yet another morning breaks,