Shall have one sound alike to thee:

Hark where the murmurs of thronged men

Surge and sink back and surge again,

Still the one voice of wave and tree.

Gather a shell from the strown beach
And listen at its lips: they sigh
The same desire and mystery,
The echo of the whole sea's speech.
And all mankind is thus at heart
Not anything but what thou art :

And Earth, Sea, Man, are all in each.

SONNETS.

S

FOR

'OUR LADY OF THE ROCKS'

BY LEONARDO DA VINCI.

MOTHER, is this the darkness of the end,

The Shadow of Death? and is that outer sea

Infinite imminent Eternity?

And does the death-pang by man's seed sustain'd
In Time's each instant cause thy face to bend
Its silent prayer upon the Son, while he
Blesses the dead with his hand silently
To his long day which hours no more offend?

Mother of grace, the pass is difficult,

Keen as these rocks, and the bewildered souls

Throng it like echoes, blindly shuddering through.

Thy name, O Lord, each spirit's voice extols,

Whose peace abides in the dark avenue

Amid the bitterness of things occult.