Xxx

At the word, The form, I looked to have been stirred With pity and approval, rose O'er me, as when the headsman throws Axe over shoulder to make end-- I fell prone, letting him expend His wrath, while thus the inflicting voice Smote me. "Is this thy final choice? Love is the best? 'Tis somewhat late! And all thou dost enumerate Of power and beauty in the world, The mightiness of love was curled Inextricably round about. Love lay within it and without, To clasp thee,--but in vain! Thy soul Still shrunk from him who made the whole, Still set deliberate aside His love!--Now take love! Well betide Thy tardy conscience! Haste to take The show of love for the name's sake, Remembering every moment who, Beside creating thee unto These ends, and these for thee, was said To undergo death in thy stead In flesh like thine: so ran the tale. What doubt in thee could countervail Belief in it? Upon the ground 'That in the story had been found Too much love! How could God love so?' He who in all his works below Adapted to the needs of man, Made love the basis of the plan,-- Did love, as was demonstrated: While man, who was so fit instead To hate, as every day gave proof,--Man thought man, for his kind's behoof, Both, could and did invent that scheme Of perfect love: 'twould well beseem Cain's nature thou wast wont to praise, Not tally with God's usual ways!"