Ii

MINE was the mood that shows the dearest face Through a long avenue, and voices kind Idle, and indeterminate, and blind As rumours from a very distant place; Yet, even so, it gathered the first chase Of the first swallows where the lane's inclined, An ebb of wavy wings to serve my mind For round Spring's vision. Ah, some equal grace (The calm sense of seen beauty without sight) Befell thee, honourable heart! no less In patient stupor walking from the dawn; Albeit thou too wert loser of life's light, Like fallen Adam in the wilderness, Aware of naught but of the thing withdrawn.

A Talisman

TAKE Temperance to thy breast, While yet is the hour of choosing, As arbitress exquisite Of all that shall thee betide; For better than fortune's best Is mastery in the using, And sweeter than any thing sweet The art to lay it aside!

Heathenesse

NO round boy-satyr, racing from the mere, Shakes on the mountain lawn his dripping head This many a May, your sister being dead, Ye Christian folk! your sister great and dear. To breathe her name, to think how sad-sincere Was all her searching, straying, dreaming, dread, How of her natural night was Plato bred (A star to keep the ways of honour clear),

Who will not sigh for her? who can forget Not only unto campèd Israel, Nor martyr-maids that as a bridegroom met The Roman lion's roar, salvation fell? To Him be most of praise that He is yet Your God through gods not inaccessible.

For Izaak Walton

CAN trout allure the rod of yore In Itchen stream to dip? Or lover of her banks restore That sweet Socratic lip? Old fishing and wishing Are over many a year. Oh, hush thee, Oh, hush thee! heart innocent and dear.

Again the foamy shallows fill, The quiet clouds amass, And soft as bees by Catherine Hill At dawn the anglers pass, And follow the hollow, In boughs to disappear. Oh, hush thee, Oh, hush thee! heart innocent and dear.

Nay, rise not now, nor with them take One amber-freckled fool! Thy sons to-day bring each an ache For ancient arts to cool. But, father, lie rather Unhurt and idle near; Oh, hush thee, Oh, hush thee! heart innocent and dear.

While thought of thee to men is yet A sylvan playfellow, Ne'er by thy marble they forget In pious cheer to go. As air falls, the prayer falls O'er kingly Winchester: Oh, hush thee, Oh, hush thee! heart innocent and dear.

Fifteen Epitaphs