Xvi

Soul of an empire that hath far outrun Thy purpose, England! thou who in the shade Of thy maturing years thyself had’st laid To rest amongst thy flocks--and lo! the sun Set never more upon thee! One by one The nations place them at those feet which strayed Into the Innermost, where worlds are made, And bless the Mother saw their race begun. England, it must be that thou hast been sent Some quest beyond thy vision to fulfil; That, Mother of the Mighty, thou art meant To be the Organ of a Mightier still; And, while the final End we may not see, We feel ’tis holier than or they or thee.

HESEPE, 14th July