ΧΙΧ. To us, us also open straight! The outer life is chilly Are we, too, like the earth, to wait XX. -Oh, my own baby on my knees, XXI. Too well my own heart understands . . . And hair of Lily's colour! XXII. -But God gives patience, Love learns strength, And Faith remembers promise; And Hope itself can smile at length On other hopes gone from us. XXIII. Love, strong as Death, shall conquer Death, Renouncing, yet victorious. XXIV. Arms, empty of her child, she lifts, "God will not all take back His gifts: XXV. "Still mine!-maternal rights serene The crystal bars shine faint between XXVI. 66 Meanwhile," the mother cries, "content! Our love was well divided; Its sweetness following where she went, XXVII. "Well done of God, to halve the lot, And give her all the sweetness! Το us, the empty room and cot,— To her, the Heaven's completeness: XXVIII. "To us, this grave-to her, the rows The mystic palm-trees spring in: Το us, the silence in the house,— To her, the choral singing! XXIX. "For her, to gladden in God's view,— XXX. "Grow fast in Heaven, sweet Lily clipped, XXXI. "While none shall tell thee of our tears, These human tears now falling; Till, after a few patient years, One home shall take us all in; XXXII. "Child, father, mother-who, left out? XXXIII. "Some smiling angel close shall stand, In old Correggio's fashion, Bearing a LILY in his hand, For death's ANNUNCIATION." SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE. I I. years, THOUGHT once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished for Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, . Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair; And a voice said in mastery while I strove,. "Guess now who holds thee?"-"Death!" I said. But, there, The silver answer rang,. "Not Death, but Love." II. BUT only three in all God's universe Have heard this word thou hast said; Himself, beside So darkly on my eyelids as to amerce My sight from seeing thee,-that if I had died, III. UNLIKE are we, unlike, O princely Heart! Our ministering two angels look surprise Than tears, even, can make mine, to ply thy part With looking from the lattice-lights at me, A poor, tired, wandering singer? . . singing through |