Musing by fire-light, that great brow

And the spirit-small hand propping it, Yonder, my heart knows how!

LIII.

So, earth has gained by one man the more,

And the gain of earth must be heaven's gain

too;

And the whole is well worth thinking o'er

When autumn comes: which I mean to do One day, as I said before.

ANY WIFE TO ANY HUSBAND.

I.

My love, this is the bitterest, that thou-
Who art all truth, and who dost love me now

As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say—
Shouldst love so truly, and couldst love me still
A whole long life through, had but love its will,
Would death that leads me from thee brook delay.

II.

I have but to be by thee, and thy hand
Will never let mine go, nor heart withstand

The beating of my heart to reach its place. When shall I look for thee and feel thee gone? for the old comfort and find none?

When cry

Never, I know! Thy soul is in thy face.

III.

Oh, I should fade-'t is willed so! Might I save,
Gladly, I would, whatever beauty gave

Joy to thy sense, for that was precious too.

It is not to be granted. But the soul

Whence the love comes, all ravage leaves that whole; Vainly the flesh fades; soul makes all things new.

IV.

It would not be because my eye grew dim

Thou couldst not find the love there, thanks to Him
Who never is dishonoured in the spark

He gave us from his fire of fires, and bade
Remember whence it sprang, nor be afraid

While that burns on, though all the rest grow dark.

V

So, how thou wouldst be perfect, white and clean
Outside as inside, soul and soul's demesne

Alike, this body given to show it by!

Oh, three-parts through the worst of life's abyss,
What plaudits from the next world after this,

Couldst thou repeat a stroke and gain the sky!

VI.

And is it not the bitterer to think

That, disengage our hands and thou wilt sink
Although thy love was love in very deed?
I know that nature! Pass a festive day
Thou dost not throw its relic-flower away
Nor bid its music's loitering echo speed.

VII.

Thou let'st the stranger's glove lie where it fell ;
If old things remain old things all is well,

For thou art grateful as becomes man best:
And hadst thou only heard me play one tune,
Or viewed me from a window, not so soon

With thee would such things fade as with the rest.

VIII.

I seem to see! We meet and part; 't is brief;
The book I opened keeps a folded leaf,

The very chair I sat on, breaks the rank;
That is a portrait of me on the wall—
Three lines, my face comes at so slight a call:

And for all this, one little hour to thank !

IX.

But now, because the hour through years was fixed, Because our inmost beings met and mixed,

Because thou once hast loved me-wilt thou dare Say to thy soul and Who may list beside, "Therefore she is immortally my bride;

"Chance cannot change my love, nor time impair.

X.

"So, what if in the dusk of life that 's left, "I, a tired traveller of my sun bereft,

"Look from my path when, mimicking the same, "The fire-fly glimpses past me, come and gone? "Where was it till the sunset? where anon

"It will be at the sunrise!

What's to blame?"

XI.

Is it so helpful to thee? Canst thou take

The mimic up, nor, for the true thing's sake,
Put gently by such efforts at a beam?

Is the remainder of the way so long,

Thou need'st the little solace, thou the strong?

Watch out thy watch, let weak ones doze and dream!