Sing thy song, thou tranced thrush,
Pipe thy best, thy clearest;
Hush, her lattice moves, oh hush -
Dearest Mabel! — dearest .

Frederick Locker-Lampson

THE HIGHER PANTHEISM

The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills, and the plains

Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns?

Is not the Vision He? tho' He be not that which He seems? Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

Earth, these solid stars, this weight of body and limb,
Are they not sign and symbol of thy division from Him?

Dark is the world to thee: thyself art the reason why;
For is He not all but that which has power to feel " I am I?"

Glory about thee, without thee; and thou fulfillest thy doom Making Him broken gleams, and a stifled splendour and gloom.

Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit

can meet

Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.

God is law, say the wise; O Soul, and let us rejoice,
For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice.

Law is God, say some: no God at all, says the fool;

For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool;

And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man cannot

see;

But if we could see and hear, this Vision

were it not He? Alfred Tennyson

LOVE IN THE WINDS

When I am standing on a mountain crest,
Or hold the tiller in the dashing spray,
My love of you leaps foaming in my breast,
Shouts with the winds and sweeps to their foray;
My heart bounds with the horses of the sea,
And plunges in the wild ride of the night,
Flaunts in the teeth of tempest the large glee
That rides out Fate and welcomes gods to fight.
Ho, love, I laugh aloud for love of you,
Glad that our love is fellow to rough weather,
No fretful orchid hothoused from the dew,
But hale and hardy as the highland heather,
Rejoicing in the wind that stings and thrills,
Comrade of ocean, playmate of the hills.

Richard Hovey

THE WIDOW'S MITE

A widow she had only one!

A puny and decrepit son;

But, day and night,

Though fretful oft, and weak and small,

A loving child, he was her all

The Widow's Mite.

ay, so sustained,

She battled onward, nor complained,
Though friends were fewer :
And while she toiled for daily fare,
A little crutch upon the stair

Was music to her.

I saw her then, and now I see
That, though resigned and cheerful, she

Has sorrowed much:

Sir Philip Sidney, Born 1554

Jonathan Swift, Born 1667

November the Thirtieth

BREATHES THERE THE MAN

Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land!"
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd

From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott

WHEN I WAS ONE AND TWENTY

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;

Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.”

But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue."
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

A. E. Housman

RULES AND LESSONS

When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave
To do the like; our bodies but forerun

The spirit's duty. True hearts spread, and heave
Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun.

Give Him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep
Him company all day, and in Him sleep.

Yet never sleep the sun up; - Prayer should
Dawn with the day. There are set, awful hours
'Twixt Heaven, and us. The manna was not good
After sun-rising; fair-day sullies flowers.

Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut,
And Heaven's gate opens, when this world's is shut.

Walk with thy fellow creatures: note the hush
And whispers amongst them. There's not a spring,
Or leaf but hath his morning-hymn; Each bush
And oak doth know I AM. Canst thou not sing?
O leave thy cares and follies! go this way,
And thou art sure to prosper all the day.

To heighten thy devotions, and keep low

All mutinous thoughts, what business e'er thou hast, Observe God in His works; here fountains flow, Birds sing, beasts feed, fish leap, and th' earth stands fast;

Above are restless motions, running lights,

Vast circling azure, giddy clouds, days, nights.

When Seasons change, then lay before thine eyes
His wondrous method; mark the various scenes
In heaven; hail, thunder, rainbows, snow, and ice,
Calms, tempests, light, and darkness, by His means;
Thou canst not miss His praise; each tree, herb, flower
Are shadows of His wisdom, and His power.
Henry Vaughan