When all my life was closed and done,

Almost before it was begun.

Closed? Nay, but years may come and go,
And take all youth and hope away;
But not this load of life. Ah, no;

Still shall I sicken as I pray,
And wear and waste as I do now,
Still fettered by a hateful vow,

Till comes the end, and I shall lie
At rest beneath the chapel wall.
God! if I heard the secret sigh,

The tearful voices rise and fall
From hearts like mine, unfilled, unblest,
Not heaven itself could give me rest.

But far away lies heaven, and fate
Broods near to prison heart and mind.

I saw the dear facè at the gate,

I heard the old voice sweet and kind.

They lied; but naught can now remove
The bars which make it sin to love.

I

Yes, life is death, and love is sin

Only a pallid ghost is left-
A shadow of the fire within,

;

Of warmth and tenderness bereft,-
A thrill, a faint erotic flame,

Which plays around the holy name.

Oh monstrous tissue of deceit !

Oh blasphemy of God and love!
One day, the parted souls shall meet;
One day, the frozen waters move.
Shine forth, great Sun of Truth! The sky
Is blinded; help us, or we die.

TWO VOYAGES.

Two ships which meet upon the ocean waste,
And stay a little while, and interchange

Tidings from two strange lands, which lie beneath

Each its own heaven and particular stars,

And fain would tarry; but the impatient surge
Calls, and a cold wind from the setting sun
Divides them, and they sadly drift apart,

And fade, and sink, and vanish, 'neath the verge

One to the breathless plains and treacherous seas
Smitten by the tyrannous Sun, where mind alone
Withers amid the bounteous outer-world,

And prodigal Nature dwarfs and chains the man

One to cold rains, rude winds, and hungry waves
Spilt on the frowning granite, niggard suns,

And snows and mists which starve the vine and palm, But nourish to more glorious growth the man.

One to the scentless flowers and songless birds,
Swift storms and poison stings and ravening jaws :
One to spring violets and nightingales,
Sleek-coated kine and honest gray-eyed skies.

One to lie helpless on the stagnant sea,

Or sink in sleep beneath the hurricane :

One to speed on, white-winged, through summer airs,

Or sow the rocks with ruin-who shall tell?

So with two souls which meet on life's broad deep, And cling together but may not stay; for Time And Age and chills of Absence wear the links Which bind them, and they part for evermore—

One to the tropic lands of fame and gold,
And feverish thirst and weariness of soul;

One to long struggles and a wintry life,

Decked with one sweet white bloom of happy love.

For each, one fate, to live and die apart,
Save for some passing smile of kindred souls;
Then drift away alone, on opposite tides,
To one dark harbour and invisible goal.

THE WISE RULE.

"TIME flies too fast, too fast our life decays." Ah, faithless! in the present lies our being; And not in lingering love for vanished days!

"Come, happy future, when my soul shall live."

Ah, fool! thy life is now, and not again; The future holds not joy nor pain to give!

"Live for what is: future and past are naught."

Ah, blind! a flash, and what shall be, has been. Where, then, is that for which thou takest thought?

Not in what has been, is, or is to be,

The wise soul lives, but in a wider time, Which is not any, but contains the three!

THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING.

CRY, cry aloud in the land, cry aloud in the streets of the

city;

Cry and proclaim that no more shall the blood of the

people be shed.

Too long have the great ones waxed strong, without any justice or pity,