This world is very odd we see,
We do not comprehend it;
But in one fact we all agree,
God won't, and we can't mend it.

Being common sense, it can't be sin
To take it as I find it ;

The pleasure to take pleasure in ;
The pain, try not to mind it.

These juicy meats, this flashing wine,
May be an unreal mere appearance;
Only-for my inside, in fine,

They have a singular coherence.

Oh yes, my pensive youth, abstain ;
And any empty sick sensation,
Remember, anything like pain
Is only your imagination.

Trust me, I've read your German sage
To far more purpose e'er than you did;
You find it in his wisest page,

Whom God deludes is well deluded. 1849. 1869.

Where are the great, whom thou would'st wish to praise thee? Where are the pure, whom thou would'st choose to love thee?

Where are the brave, to stand supreme above thee,

Whose high commands would cheer, whose chiding raise thee?

Seek, seeker, in thyself; submit to find

When the enemy is near thee,
Call on us!

In our hands we will upbear thee,
He shall neither scathe nor scare thee,
He shall fly thee, and shall fear thee.
Call on us!

Call when all good friends have left thee,
Of all good sights and sounds bereft thee;
Call when hope and heart are sinking,
And the brain is sick with thinking,
Help, O help!

Call, and following close behind thee There shall haste, and there shall find thee,

Help, sure help.

When the panic comes upon thee,
When necessity seems on thee,
Hope and choice have all forgone thee,
Fate and force are closing o'er thee,
And but one way stands before thee-
Call on us!

Oh, and if thou dost not call,
Be but faithful, that is all.
Go right on, and close behind thee
There shall follow still and find thee,
Help, sure help.

1849. 1862. SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOUGHT AVAILETH

SAY not the struggle nought availeth, The labor and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,

Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making,

Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light, [slowly,

In front, the sun climbs slow, how But westward, look, the land is bright. 1849. 1862.

Corruption that sad perfect work hath done,

Which here she scarcely, lightly had begun :

The foul engendered worm

Feeds

on the flesh of the life-giving
form

Of our most Holy and Anointed One.
He is not risen, no-

He lies and moulders low;
Christ is not risen!

What if the women, ere the dawn was gray,

Saw one or more great angels, as they say

(Angels, or Him himself)? Yet neither there, nor then,

Nor afterwards, nor elsewhere, nor at all.

Hath He appeared to Peter or the Ten; Nor save in thunderous terror, to blind Saul;

Save in an after Gospel and late Creed, He is not risen, indeed,

Christ is not risen!

Or, what if e'en, as runs a tale, the Ten Saw, heard, and touched, again and yet again?

What if at Emmaüs' inn, and by Capernaum's Lake,

Came One, the bread that brake

Came One that spake as never mortal spake,

And with them ate, and drank, and stood, and walked about?

Ah?" some" did well to “doubt!" Ah! the true Christ, while these things came to pass,

Nor heard, nor spake, nor walked, nor lived, alas!

He was not risen, no

He lay and mouldered low,

Christ was not risen!

As circulates in some great city crowd A rumor changeful, vague, importunate, and loud.

From no determined centre or of fact
Or authorship exact,
Which no man can deny
Nor verify;

So spread the wondrous fame;
He all the same

Lay senseless, mouldering, low:
He was not risen, no--

Christ was not risen !

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
As of the unjust, also of the just--
Yea, of that Just One, too!
This is the one sad Gospel that is true--
Christ is not risen !

[Him;

Weep not beside the tomb, Ye women, unto whom He was great solace while ye tended Ye who with napkin o'er the head And folds of linen round each wounded limb

Laid out the Sacred Dead;

And thou that bar'st Him in thy wondering womb;

Yea, Daughters of Jerusalem, depart, Bind up as best ye may your own sad bleeding heart:

Go to your homes, your living children tend,

Your earthly spouses love;

Set your affections not on things above,

Which moth and rust corrupt, which quickliest come to end :

Or pray, if pray ye must, and pray, if

Here, on our Easter Day

We rise, we come, and lo! we find Him not,

Gardener nor other, on the sacred spot: Where they have laid Him there is none to say;

No sound, nor in, nor out-no word Of where to seek the dead or meet the living Lord.

There is no glistering of an angel's wings,

There is no voice of heavenly clear behest:

Let us go hence, and think upon these things

In silence, which is best.
Is He not risen? No--
But lies and moulders low?
Christ is not risen?

In the true creed

He is yet risen indeed; Christ is yet risen.

Weep not beside His Tomb,

Ye women unto whom

He was great comfort and yet greater grief;

Nor ye, ye faithful few that wont with Him to roam,

Seek sadly what for Him ye left, go hopeless to your home;

Nor ye despair, ye sharers yet to be of their belief;

Though He be dead, He is not dead,
Nor gone, though fled,

Not lost, though vanished;
Though He return not, though
He lies and moulders low;

In the true creed

He is yet risen indeed;

Christ is yet risen.

Sit if ye will, sit down upon the ground, Yet not to weep and wail, but calmly

look around.

Whate'er befell,

Earth is not hell;

Now, too, as when it first began,
Life is yet life, and man is man.

For all that breathe beneath the heaven's high cope,

Joy with grief mixes, with despondence hope.

Hope conquers cowardice, joy grief;
Or at least, faith unbelief.

Though dead, not dead;
Not gone, though fled;
Not lost, though vanished.

In the great gospel and true creed,
He is yet risen indeed;

Christ is yet risen. 1849. 1869.

HOPE EVERMORE AND BELIEVE!

HOPE evermore and believe, O man, for e'en as thy thought

So are the things that thou see'st; e'en as thy hope and belief. Cowardly art thou and timid? they rise to provoke thee against them; Hast thou courage? enough, see them exulting to yield.

Yea, the rough rock, the dull earth, the wild sea's furying waters

(Violent say'st thou and hard, mighty thou think'st to destroy),

All with ineffable longing are waiting their Invader,

All, with one varying voice, call to him, Come and subdue ;

Still for their Conqueror call, and, but for the joy of being conquered (Rapture they will not forego), dare to resist and rebel;

Still, when resisting and raging, in soft undervoice say unto him,

Fear not, retire not, O man; hope evermore and believe.

Go from the east to the west, as the sun and the stars direct thee,

Go with the girdle of man, go and encompass the earth.

Not for the gain of the gold; for the getting, the hoarding, the having, But for the joy of the deed; but for the Duty to do.

Go with the spiritual life, the higher volition and action,

With the great girdle of God, go and encompass the earth.

Go; say not in thy heart, And what then were it accomplished,

Were the wild impulse allayed, what were the use or the good!

Go, when the instinct is stilled, and when the deed is accomplished. What thou hast done and shalt do,

shall be declared to thee then.

Go with the sun and the stars, and yet evermore in thy spirit

Say to thyself: It is good: yet is there better than it.

This that I see is not all, and this that I do is but little;

Nevertheless it is good, though there is better than it.

QUI LABORAT, ORAT

1862.

( ONLY Source of all our light and life. Whom as our truth, our strength, we see and feel,

But whom the hours of mortal moral strife

Alone aright reveal!

Mine inmost soul, before Thee inly brought,

Thy presence owns ineffable, divine: Chastised each rebel self-encentered thought,

My will adoreth Thine.

With eye down-dropped, if then this earthly mind

O THOU whose image in the shrine
Of human spirits dwells divine;
Which from that precinct once con-
veyed,

To be to outer day displayed,
Doth vanish, part, and leave behind
Mere blank and void of empty mind,
Which wilful fancy seeks in vain
With casual shapes to fill again !

O Thou that in our bosom's shrine
Dost dwell, unknown because divine!
I thought to speak, I thought to say,
"The light is here," "behold the way,"
"The voice was thus," and "thus the
word,"

And thus I saw," and "that I heard."-
But from the lips that half essayed
The imperfect utterance fell unmade.

O Thou, in that mysterious shrine
Enthroned, as I must say, divine!
I will not frame one thought of what
Thou mayest either be or not.

I will not prate of "thus" and "so,"
And be profane with "yes" and "no,"
Enough that in our soul and heart
Thou, whatsoe'er Thou may'st be, art.

Unseen, secure in that high shrine
Acknowledged present and divine,
I will not ask some upper air,
Some future day to place Thee there;
Nor say, nor yet deny, such men
And women saw Thee thus and then :
Thy name was such, and there or here
To him or her Thou didst appear.

Do only Thou in that dim shrine,
Unknown or known, remain, divine;
There, or if not, at least in eyes

That scan the fact that round them lies,
The hand to sway, the judgment guide,
In sight and sense Thyself divide:
Be Thou but there,-in soul and heart,
I will not ask to feel Thou art. 1862.

"THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY"
WHAT we, when face to face we see
The Father of our souls, shall be.
John tells us, doth not yet appear;
Ah! did he tell what we are here!

A mind for thoughts to pass into,
A heart for loves to travel through,
Five senses to detect things near,
Is this the whole that we are here?

Rules baffle instincts-instincts rules,
Wise men are bad-and good are fools,
Facts evil-wishes vain appear,
We cannot go, why are we here?

O may we for assurance' sake,
Some arbitrary judgment take,
And wilfully pronounce it clear,
For this or that 'tis we are here?

Or is it right, and will it do,
To pace the sad confusion through,
And say:-It doth not yet appear,
What we shall be, what we are here?

Ah yet, when all is thought and said,
The heart still overrules the head;
Still what we hope we must believe,
And what is given us receive:

Must still believe, for still we hope
That in a world of larger scope,
What here is faithfully begun
Will be completed, not undone.