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SONG FROM MARY STUART

AND ye maun braid your yellow hair,

And busk ye like a bride ; Wi’ sevenscore men to bring ye hame,

And ae true love beside : Between the birk and the green rowan

Fu' blithely shall ye ride.

Oye maun braid my yellow hair,

But braid it like nae bride ; And I maun gang my ways, mither,

Wi' nae true love beside ; Between the kirk and the kirkyard

Fu'sadly shall I ride. 1881.

HOPE AND FEAR

ut held the fire eternal ; eye and ear ere as a god's to see, a god's to hear, rough all his hours of daily and night

ly chime, e sundering of the two-edged spear of

time : e spear that pierces even the seven

fold shields mightiest Memory, mother of all songs

made, id wastes all songs as roseleaves kissed

and frayed s here the harvest of the foam-flowered

fields ; it thine the spear may waste not that

he wields nce first the God whose soul is man's

live breath, he sun whose face hath our sun's face

for shade, ut all the light of life and love and

death 00 strong for life, but not for love too

strong, Vhere pain makes peace with pleasure

in thy song. and in thine heart, where love and song

make strife, Fire everlasting of eternal life. 1880. ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CAR

LYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT wo souls diverse out of our human sight Pass, followed one with love and each

with wonder : The stormy sophist with his mouth of

thunder, Clothed with loud words and mantled in

the might Of darkness and magnificence of night ; And one whose eye could smite the night

in sunder, Searching if light or no light were there

under, And found in love of loving-kindness

light. Duty divine and Thought with eyes of

fire Still following Righteousness with deep

desire Shone sole and stern before her and

aboveSure stars and sole to steer by ; but

more sweet Shone lower the loveliest lamp for earth

ly feet. The light of little children, and their love.

April, 1881.

BENEATH the shadow of dawn's aerial

cope, With eyes enkindled as the sun's own

sphere, Hope from the front of youth in god

like cheer Looks Godward, past the shades where

blind men grope Round the dark door that prayers nor

dreams can ope, And makes for joy the very darkness

dear That gives her wide wings play ; nor

dreams that fear At noon may rise and pierce the heart of

hope. Then, when the soul leares off to dream

and yearn, May truth first purge her eyesight to

discern What once being known leaves time no

power to appal; Till youth at last, ere yet youth be not,

learn The kind wise word that falls from

years that fall· Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all."

1882.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Not if men's tongues and angels' all in

one

Spake, might the word be said that

might speak Thee. Streams, winds, woods, flowers, fields,

mountains, yea, the sea, What power is in them all to praise the

sun? His praise is this,-he can be praised of

none.

Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very light
Heard from morning's rosiest height,
When the soul of all delight

Fills a child's clear laughter.

Man, woman, child, praise God for him ;

but he Exults not to be worshipped, but to be. He is; and, being, beholds his work well

done. All joy, all glory, all sorrow, all strength,

all mirth, Are his : without him, day were night

on earth. Time knows not his from time's own

period. All lutes, all harps, all viols, all flutes,

all lyres, Fall dumb before him ere one string

suspires. All stars are angels; but the sun is God.

1882.

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Man, woman, child, praise God for him ; Soft and stron but he

Very sound of Exults not to be worshipped. but to be. Heard from m. He is; and, being, beholds his work well When the sou done,

Fills a child All joy, all glory, all sorrow, all strength, all mirth,

Golden bells ( Are his : without him, day were night Never forth s' on earth.

Hours so blit! Time knows not his from time's own As the radian period.

Here that r All lutes, all harps, all viols, all flutes, If the golden all lyres,

Were a night Fall dumb before him ere one string Something se suspires.

Might be hal All stars are angels; but the sun is God. Laughs a c

1882.

THE SA
CHILDREN

IF childhood
OF such is the kingdom of heaven.

But only r
No glory that ever was shed
From the crowning star of the seven

No baby-loc)
That crown the north world's head,

No baby-b No word that ever was spoken

Though me

fairer Of human or godlike tongue,

And near
Gave ever such godlike token

And verse a
Since human harps were strung.

Tones of
No sign that ever was given
To faithful or faithless eyes

Though the

hours Showed ever beyond clouds riven

Found, a:
So clear a Paradise.

Though de
Earth's creeds may be seventy times

And flow
And blood have defiled each creed :

But childre
If of such be the kingdom of heaven,
It must be heaven indeed. 1882.

They felt
This were

Yet look
A CHILD'S LAUGHTER

flowering

seven

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in th. ****. Van

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LONG these low pleached lanes, on such

a day, 0 soft a day as this, through shade and Vith glad grave eyes that scanned the

glad wild way And heart still lovering o'er a song

begun, And smile that warmed the world with

benison, Dur father, lord long since of lordly

rhyme, Long since hath haply ridden, when the

lime Bloomed broad above him, flowering

where he canie. Because thy passage once made warm

this clime, Our father Chaucer, here we praise thy

Friend, even as bees about the flower

ing thyme, Years crowd on years, till hoar decay

begrime Names once beloved ; but seeing the

sun the same, As birds of autumn fain to praise the

prime, Our father Chaucer, here we praise thy name.

June, 1884.

THE SEABOARD

name,

Each year that England clothes herself

with May, She takes thy likeness on her. Time

hath spun Fresh raiment all in vain and strange

array For earth and man's new spirit, fain to

shun Things past for dreams of better to be

won, Through many a century since thy fun

eral chime Rang, and men deemed it death's most

direful crime To have spared not thee for very love or

shame ; And yet, while mists round last year's

memories climb, Our father Chaucer, here we praise thy

The sea is at ebb, and the sound of her

utmost word Is soft as the least wave's lapse in a still

small reach. From bay unto bay, on quest of a goal

deferred, From headland ever to headland and

breach to breach Where earth gives ear to the message

that all days preach With changes of gladness and sadness

that cheer and chide, The lone way lures me along by a chance

untried That haply, if hope dissolve not and

faith be whole, Not all for nought shall I seek, with a

dream for guide, The goal that is not, and ever again the

goal.

The trackless ways are untravelled of

sail or bird : The hoar wave hardly recedes from the

soundless beach.

name,

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