When rippled by the wind:

Did you see the Dove with wings Bathed in golden glisterings From a sunless light behind,

Dropping on me from the sky,
Soft as mother's kiss, until

I seemed to leap and yet was still?
Saw you how His love-large eye
Looked upon me mystic calms,
Till the power of his divine
Vision was indrawn to mine?
Oh, the dream within the dream!
I saw celestial places even.
Oh, the vistas of high palms
Making finites of delight
Through the heavenly infinite,
Lifting up their green still tops
To the heaven of heaven!
Oh, the sweet life-tree that drops
Shade like light across the river
Glorified in its for ever

Flowing from the Throne !
Oh, the shining holinesses
Of the thousand, thousand faces
God-sunned by the throned ONE
And made intense with such a love
That, though I saw them turned above,
Each loving seemed for also me !
And, oh, the Unspeakable, the He,
The manifest in secrecies

Yet of mine own heart partaker

With the overcoming look

Of One who hath been once forsook

And blesseth the forsaker!

Mother, mother, let me go

Toward the Face that looketh so!

Through the mystic winged Four Whose are inward, outward eyes Dark with light of mysteries

And the restless evermore "Holy holy, holy,"-through

The sevenfold Lamps that burn in view Of cherubim and seraphim,Through the four-and-twenty crowned Stately elders white around,

Suffer me to go to Him!

Is your wisdom very wise,
Mother, on the narrow earth,
Very happy, very worth
That I should stay to learn?
Are these air-corrupting sighs
Fashioned by unlearned breath
Do the students' lamps that burn
All night, illumine death?
Mother, albeit this be so,

Loose thy prayer and let me go
Where that bright chief angel stands
Apart from all his brother bands,
Too glad for smiling, having bent
In angelic wilderment

O'er the depths of God, and brought
Reeling thence one only thought
To fill his own eternity.

He the teacher is for me

He can teach what I would know

Mother, mother, let me go!

Can your poet make an Eden

No winter will undo,

And light a starry fire while heeding

His hearth's is burning too?

Drown in music the earth's din,

And keep his own wild soul within

The law of his own harmony?
Mother, albeit this be so,

Let me to my heaven go !

A little harp me waits thereby,

A harp whose strings are golden all
And tuned to music spherical,
Hanging on the green life-tree,
Where no willows ever be.
Shall I miss that harp of mine?
Mother, no!—the Eye divine
Turned upon it, makes it shine;
And when I touch it, poems sweet
Like separate souls shall fly from it,
Each to the immortal fytte.

We shall all be poets there,

Gazing on the chiefest Fair.

"Love! earth's love! and can we love

Fixedly where all things move?

Can the sinning love each other?

Mother, mother,

I tremble in thy close embrace,

I feel thy tears adown my face,

Thy prayers do keep me out of bliss

O dreary earthly love!

Loose thy prayer and let me go

To the place which loving is
Yet not sad; and when is given
Escape to thee from this below,
Thou shalt behold me that I wait
For thee beside the happy Gate,
And silence shall be up in heaven
To hear our greeting kiss."

The nurse awakes in the morning sun,
And starts to see beside her bed
The lady with a grandeur spread

Like pathos o'er her face, as one
God-satisfied and earth-undone.

The babe upon her arm was dead :
And the nurse could utter forth no cry,-
She was awed by the calm in the mother's eye.

(6 Wake, nurse!" the lady said;

"We are waking-he and I-
I, on earth, and he, in sky :
And thou must help me to o'erlay
With garment white this little clay
Which needs no more our lullaby.

"I changed the cruel prayer I made,
And bowed my meekened face, and prayed
That God would do His will; and thus

He did it, nurse! He parted us :

And His sun shows victorious

The dead calm face,-and I am calm,

And Heaven is harkening a new psalm.

"This earthly noise is too anear,
Too loud, and will not let me hear
The little harp. My death will soon
Make silence."

And a sense of tune,

A satisfied love meanwhile

Which nothing earthly could despoil,

Sang on within her soul.

Oh you,

Earth's tender and impassioned few,
Take courage to entrust your love
To Him so named who guards above
Its ends and shall fulfil !

Breaking the narrow prayers that may
Befit your narrow hearts, away

In His broad, loving will.

DE PROFUNDIS.

THE face which, duly as the sun,
Rose up for me with life begun,
To mark all bright hours of the day
With hourly love, is dimmed away,-
And yet my days go on, go on.

The tongue which, like a stream, could run
Smooth music from the roughest stone,
And every morning with "Good day"
Make each day good, is hushed away—
And yet my days go on, go on.

The heart which, like a staff, was one
For mine to lean and rest upon,

The strongest on the longest day
With steadfast love, is caught away,—
And yet my days go on, go on.

And cold before my summer's done,
And deaf in Nature's general tune,
And fallen too low for special fear,
And here, with hope no longer here,—
While the tears drop, my days go on.

The world goes whispering to its own,
"This anguish pierces to the bone;"
And tender friends go sighing round,
"What love can ever cure this wound?"

My days go on, my days go on.

The past rolls forward on the sun

And makes all night. O dreams begun,

Not to be ended! Ended bliss,
And life that will not end in this!

My days go on, my days go on.