Heart, wilt thou go?
-“No, no!

Warm hearts are fuller so."

VI.

O Heart, O Love,-I fear That Love may be kept too near. Hast heard, O Heart, that tale, How Love may be false and frail To a heart once holden dear? "But this true Love of mine Clings fast as the clinging vine, And mingles pure as the grapes in wine." Heart, wilt thou go? "No, no!

Full hearts beat higher so.”

VII.

O Heart, O Love, beware!

Look up, and boast not there.

For who has twirled at the pin?

'Tis the world, between Death and Sin,— The world, and the world's Despair! And Death has quickened his pace To the hearth, with a mocking face, Familiar as Love, in Love's own place— Heart, wilt thou go?

"Still, no!

High hearts must grieve even so."

VIII.

The house is waste to-day,

The leaf has dropt from the spray,

The thorn, prickt through to the song:
If summer doeth no wrong,

The winter will, they say.
Sing, Heart! what Heart replies?
In vain we were calm and wise,

If the tears unkissed stand on in our eyes.
Heart, wilt thou go?

"Ah, no!

Grieved hearts must break even so."

IX.

Howbeit all is not lost :

The warm noon ends in frost,
And worldly tongues of promise,
Like sheep-bells, die off from us

On the desert hills cloud-crossed!
Yet through the silence shall
Pierce the death-angel's call,
And "Come up hither," recover all.
Heart, wilt thou go?
'I go!

Broken hearts triumph so."

WISDOM UNAPPLIED.

I.

IF I were thou, O butterfly,

And poised my purple wings, to spy
The sweetest flowers that live and die;

II.

I would not waste my strength on those,
As thou, for summer hath a close,
And pansies bloom not in the snows.

III.

If I were thou, O working bee,
And all that honey-gold I see
Could delve from roses easily;

IV.

I would not hive it at man's door,

As thou,-that heirdom of my store Should make him rich, and leave me poor.

V.

If I were thou, O eagle proud,

And screamed the thunder back aloud, And faced the lightning from the cloud;

VI.

I would not build my eyrie-throne,
As thou,-upon a crumbling stone,
Which the next storm may trample down.

VII.

If I were thou, O gallant steed,
With pawing hoof, and dancing head,
And eye outrunning thine own speed;

VIII.

I would not meeken to the rein,
As thou, nor smooth my nostril plain
From the glad desert's snort and strain

IX.

If I were thou, red-breasted bird,
Whose song 's at shut up window heard,
Like Love's sweet Yes too long deferred;

X.

I would not overstay delight,

As thou, but take a swallow-flight,
Till the new spring returned to sight.

XI.

While yet I spake, a touch was laid
Upon my brow, whose pride did fade,
As thus, methought, an angel said:

XII.

"If I were thou who sing'st this song, Most wise for others; and most strong In seeing right, while doing wrong;

XIII.

"I would not waste my cares, and choose, As thou, to seek what thou must lose, Such gains as perish in the use:

XIV.

"I would not work where none can win,
As thou,-half way 'twixt grief and sin,
But look above, and judge within :

XV.

I would not let my pulse beat high,
As thou, toward fame's regality,
Nor yet in love's great jeopardy:

XVI.

"I would not damp the hard cold bit,
As thou,-of what the world thinks fit,~
But take God's freedom, using it:

XVII.

"I would not play earth's winter out,
As thou; but gird my soul about,
And live for life past death and doubt.

XVIII.

Then sing, O singer !—but allow
Beast, fly, and bird, called foolish now,
Are wise (for all thy scorn) as thou!"

MEMORY AND HOPE.

I.

BACK-LOOKING Memory

And prophet Hope both sprang from out the ground: One, where the flashing of Cherubic sword

Fell sad, in Eden sward;

And one, from Eden earth, within the sound
Of the four rivers lapsing pleasantly,

What time the promise after curse was said-
"Thy seed shall bruise his head "

II.

Poor Memory's brain is wild,

As moonstruck by that flaming atmosphere
When she was born. Her deep eyes shine and shone
With light that conquereth sun

And stars to wanner paleness year by year:
With odorous gums, she mixeth things defiled;
She trampleth down earth's grasses green and sweet,
With her far-wandering feet.

III.

She plucketh many flowers,

Their beauty on her bosom's coldness killing;
She teacheth every melancholy sound

To winds and waters round;

She droppeth tears with seed, where man is tilling
The rugged soil in his exhausted hours;
She smileth-ah me! in her smile doth go
A mood of deeper woe!

IV.

Hope tripped on out of sight,
Crowned with an Eden wreath she saw not fade,
And went a-nodding through the wilderness,
With brow that shone no less

Than sea-bird wings, by storm more frequent made,—
Searching the treeless rock for fruits of light;
Her fair quick feet being armed from stones and cold,
By slippers all of gold.

V.

Memory did Hope much wrong,

And, while she dreamed, her slippers stole away;
But still she wended on with mirth unheeding,
The while her feet were bleeding;

Till Memory met her on a certain day,
And with most evil eyes did search her long
And cruelly, whereat she sank to ground
In a stark deadly swound.