So take thy quest through nature,
It through thousand natures ply:
Ask on, thou clothed eternity;
Time is the false reply."

Uprose the merry Sphinx,

And crouched no more in stone;
She melted into purple cloud,
She silvered in the moon;
She spired into a yellow flame;
She flowered in blossoms red;
She flowed into a foaming wave;
She stood Monadnoc's head.

Through a thousand voices
Spoke the universal dame:
"Who telleth one of my meanings,
Is master of all I am."

BRAHMA

If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;

Shadow and sunlight are the same;

The vanished gods to me appear;

And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!

Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

DAYS

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and faggots in their hands.
To each they offer gifts after his will,

Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all.

I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp,
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily

Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I, too late,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH

THE KINGDOM OF GOD

I say to thee, do thou repeat

To the first man that thou mayst meet In lane, highway, or open street

That he, and we, and all men, move
Under a canopy of love,

As broad as the blue sky above:

That doubt and trouble, fear and pain And anguish, all are shadows vain; That death itself shall not remain:

That weary deserts we may tread,
A dreary labyrinth may thread,
Through dark ways underground be led:

Yet, if we will one Guide obey,
The dreariest path, the darkest way,
Shall issue out in heavenly day.

And we, on divers shores now cast,
Shall meet, our perilous voyage past,
All in our Father's house at last.

And ere thou leave him, say thou this, Yet one word more: they only miss The winning of that final bliss

Who will not count it true that Love,
Blessing, not cursing, rules above,
And that in it we live and move.

And one thing further make him know—
That to believe these things are so,
This firm faith never to forego-

Despite of all which seems at strife
With blessing, all with curses rife―
That this is blessing, this is life.

NOT THOU, FROM US!

Not Thou from us, O Lord, but we
Withdraw ourselves from Thee.

When we are dark and dead, And Thou art covered with a cloud, Hanging before Thee, like a shroud, So that our prayer can find no way, Oh! teach us that we do not say, "Where is Thy brightness fled?"

But that we search and try

What in ourselves has wrought this blame;
For Thou remainest still the same,
But earth's own vapours earth may fill
With darkness and thick clouds, while still
The sun is in the sky.

FREDERICK TENNYSON

THE GLORY OF NATURE

If only once the chariot of the Morn

Had scattered from its wheels the twilight dun, But once the unimaginable Sun

Flashed godlike through perennial clouds forlorn, And shown us Beauty for a moment born:

If only once blind eyes had seen the Spring
Waking amid the triumphs of mid-noon;
But once had seen the lovely Summer boon
Pass by in state like a full-robed king,
The waters dance, the woodlands laugh and sing:

If only once deaf ears had heard the joy

Of the wild birds, or morning breezes blowing, Or silver fountains from their caverns flowing,

Or the deep-voiced rivers rolling by;

Then night eternal fallen from the sky: