How far was Würzburg, with its church and spire,
And garden-walls, and all things they contain,
From that look's far alighting?

Par.
I but spoke
And looked alike from simple joy, to see
The beings I love best, shut in so well
From all rude chances like to be my lot,
That, when afar, my weary spirit,-disposed
To lose awhile its care in soothing thoughts

Of them, their pleasant features, looks, and words,—
Need never hesitate, nor apprehend

Encroaching trouble may have reached them too,
Nor have recourse to Fancy's busy aid
To fashion even a wish in their behalf
Beyond what they possess already here;
But, unobstructed, may at once forget
Itself in them, assured how well they are.
Beside, this Festus knows, he thinks me one
Whom quiet and its charms attract in vain,
One scarce aware of all the joys I quit,
Too fill'd with airy hopes to make account
Of soft delights which free hearts garner up:
Whereas, behold how much our sense of all
That's beauteous proves alike! When Festus learns
That every common pleasure of the world
Affects me as himself; that I have just

As varied appetites for joy derived

From common things; a stake in life, in short,
Like his; a stake which rash pursuit of aims
That life affords not, would as soon destroy ;-
He may convince himself, that, this in view,
I shall act well advised: and last, because,

Though heaven and earth, and all things, were at stake,
Sweet Michal must not weep, our parting eve!

Fest. True: and the eve is deepening, and we sit As little anxious to begin our talk

As though to-morrow I could open it

As we paced arm-in-arm the cheerful town

At sun-dawn; and continue it by fits

(Old Tritheim busied with his class the while)

In that dim chamber where the noon-streaks peer
Half frightened by the awful tomes around;
And here at home unbosom all the rest

From even-blush to midnight: but, to-morrow! . .
Have I full leave to tell my inmost mind?

We two were brothers, and henceforth the world
Will rise between us :-all my freest mind?
'Tis the last night, dear Aureole !

Par.

Oh, say on!

Devise some test of love-some arduous feat

Recall how oft

To be performed for you-say on! If night
Be spent the while, the better!
My wondrous plans, and dreams, and hopes, and fears,
Have-never wearied you . . . oh, no!
Recall, and never vividly as now,

as I

Your true affection, born when Einsiedeln
And its green hills were all the world to us,
And still increasing to this night, which ends
My further stay at Würzburg. . . Oh, one day

You shall be very proud! Say on, dear friends !
Fest. In truth? "Tis for my proper peace, indeed,
Rather than yours; for vain all projects seem
To stay your course: I said my latest hope
Is fading even now. A story tells

Of some far embassy despatched to buy
The favour of an eastern king, and how

The gifts they offered proved but dazzling dust
Shed from the ore-beds native to his clime:
Just so, the value of repose and love

I meant should tempt you, better far than I
You seem to comprehend-and yet desist
No whit from projects where repose nor love
Have part.

Par. Once more? Alas! as I forebode!
Fest. A solitary briar the bank puts forth
To save our swan's nest floating out to sea.

Par. Dear Festus, hear me. What is it you wish? That I should lay aside my heart's pursuit, Abandon the sole ends for which I live, Reject God's great commission--and so die! You bid me listen for your true love's sake: Yet how has grown that love? Even in a long And patient cherishing of the selfsame spirit It now would quell; as though a mother hoped To stay the lusty manhood of the child

Once weak upon her knees. I was not born
Informed and fearless from the first, but shrank
From aught which marked me out apart from men:
I would have lived their life, and died their death,
Lost in their ranks, eluding destiny:

But you first guided me through doubt and fear,
Taught me to know mankind and know myself;
And now that I am strong and full of hope,
That, from my soul, I can reject all aims

Save those your earnest words made plain to me;
Now, that I touch the brink of my design,

When I would have a triumph in their eyes,
A glad cheer in their voices-Michal weeps,
And Festus ponders gravely!

Fest.

When you deign

Hear it? I can say

Beforehand all this evening's conference!
"Tis this way, Michal, that he uses: first,
Or he declares, or I, the leading points

Of our best scheme of life, what is man's end,
And what's God's will-no two faiths e'er agreed.
As his with mine: next, each of us allows.
Faith should be acted on as best we may :
Accordingly I venture to submit

A plan, in lack of better, for pursuing

The path which God's will seems to authorize :
Well-he discerns much good in it, avows
This motive worthy, that hope plausible,
A danger here, to be avoided—there,
An oversight to be repaired: at last
Our two minds go together—all the good
Approved by him, I gladly recognize;
All he counts bad, I thankfully discard;
And nought forbids my looking up at last
For some stray comfort in his cautious brow-
When, lo! I learn that, spite of all, there lurks
Some innate and inexplicable germ

Of failure in my schemes; so that at last
It all amounts to this-the sovereign proof
That we devote ourselves to God, is seen
In living just as though there were no God:
A life which, prompted by the sad and blind
Lusts of the world, Festus abhors the most-
But which these tenets sanctify at once;
Though to less subtle wits it seems the same,
Consider it how they may.

Mich.

Is it so, Festus? He speaks so calmly and kindly—is it so ?

Par. Reject those glorious visions of God's love

And man's design; laugh loud that God should send

Vast longings to direct us; say how soon

Power satiates these, or lust, or gold; I know

The world's cry well, and how to answer it!
But this ambiguous warfare

Wearies so

Fest.
That you will grant no last leave to your friend
To urge it ?-for his sake, not yours? I wish
To send my soul in good hopes after you;

Never to sorrow that uncertain words,
Erringly apprehended-a new creed,
Ill understood-begot rash trust in you,
And shared in your undoing.

Par.

Choose your side:

Hold or renounce: but meanwhile blame me not
Because I dare to act on your own views,

Nor shrink when they point onward, nor espy

A peril where they most ensure success.

Fest. Prove that to me-but that! Prove you abide
Within their warrant, nor presumptuous boast
God's labour laid on you; prove, all you covet

A mortal may expect; and, most of all,

Prove the strange course you now affect, will lead
To its attainment-and I bid you speed,

Nay, count the minutes till you venture forth!

You smile; but I had gathered from slow thought-
Much musing on the fortunes of my friend—
Matter I deemed could not be urged in vain :
But it all leaves me at my need in shreds
And fragments I must venture what remains.

Mich. Ask at once, Festus, wherefore he should scorn
Fest. Stay, Michal: Aureole, I speak guardedly
And gravely, knowing well, whate'er your error,
This is no ill-considered choice of yours-

No sudden fancy of an ardent boy.

Not from your own confiding words alone
Am I aware your passionate heart long since
Gave birth to, nourished, and at length matures
This scheme. I will not speak of Einsiedeln,
Where I was born your elder by some years
Only to watch you fully from the first:
In all beside, our mutual tasks were fixed
Even then-'twas mine to have you in my view
As you had your own soul and those intents
Which filled it when, to crown your dearest wish,
With a tumultuous heart, you left with me
Our childhood's home to join the favoured few
Whom, here at Würzburg, Tritheim deigns to teach
A portion of his lore: and not the best

Of those so favoured, whom you now despise,
Came earnest as you cas: resolved, like you,
To grasp all, and retain all, and deserve
By patient toil a wide renown like his.
And this new ardour which supplants the old,
I watched too; 'twas significant and strange,
In one matched to his soul's content at length
With rivals in the search for Wisdom's prize,

To see the sudden pause, the total change;
From contest, the transition to repose-
From pressing onward as his fellows pressed,
To a blank idleness; yet most unlike
The dull stagnation of a soul, content,
Once foiled, to leave betimes a thriveless quest.
That careless bearing, free from all pretence
Even of contempt for what it ceased to seek-
Smiling humility, praising much, yet waiving
What it professed to praise-though not so well
Maintained but that rare outbreaks, fierce as brief,
Revealed the hidden scorn, as quickly curbed-
That ostentatious show of past defeat,
That ready acquiescence in contempt,
I deemed no other than the letting go
His shivered sword, of one about to spring
Upon his foe's throat; but it was not thus:
Not that way looked your brooding purpose then
For after-signs disclosed, what you confirmed,
That you prepared to task to the uttermost
Your strength, in furtherance of a certain aim,
Which-while it bore the name your rivals gave
Their own most puny efforts was so vast
In scope that it included their best flights,
Combined them, and desired to gain one prize
In place of many, the secret of the world,
Of man, and man's true purpose, path, and fate :
—That you, not nursing as a mere vague dream
This purpose, with the sages of the Past,
Have struck upon a way to this, if all

You trust be true, which following, heart and soul,
You, if a man may, dare aspire to KNOW:
And that this aim shall differ from a host

Of aims alike in character and kind,
Mostly in this, to seek its own reward

In itself only, not an alien end

To blend therewith; no hope, nor fear, nor joy,
Nor woe, to elsewhere move you, but this pure
Devotion to sustain you or betray:

Thus you aspire.

Par.

You shall not state it thus:

I should not differ from the dreamy crew

You speak of. I profess no other share
In the selection of my lot, than this.

A ready answer to the will of God
Who summons me to be his organ: all

Whose innate strength supports them shall succeed
No better than your sages.