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And crying loves and passions still,
And burst on burst for beauty and
of some with hearts beside
And endless joyous music rise
who shall say !
song from many a house of care
whose singers come With old kind tales of pity from The Great Compassion's lips,
That make the bells of Heaven to peal
of men all sorts and kinds, As many tempers, moods and minds As leaves are on a tree, As many faiths and castes and creeds, As many human bloods and breeds As in the world
of each and all who gaze
And alleluias sweet and clear
The music of a lion strong
The song of life that wells and flows
I heard it all, each, every
I heard it all, I heard the whole
Ralph Hodgson. 209*
Man, one harmonious soul of many a soul,
Whose nature is its own divine control,
Familiar acts are beautiful through love ;
Labour, and pain, and grief, in life's green grove Sport like tame beasts, none knew how gentle they
could be !
His will, with all mean passions, bad delights,
And selfish cares, its trembling satellites, A spirit ill to guide, but mighty to obey,
Is as a tempest-winged ship, whose helm
Love rules, through waves which dare not overwhelm, Forcing life's wildest shores to own its sovereign sway.
All things confess his strength. Through the cold mass
Of marble and of colour his dreams pass ; Bright threads whence mothers weave the robes their
children wear; Language is a perpetual Orphic song,
Which rules with Dædal harmony a throng Of thoughts and forms, which else senseless and shape
The lightning is his slave; heaven's utmost deep
up her stars, and like a flock of sheep They pass before his eye, are number'd, and roll on!
The tempest is his steed, he strides the air ;
And the abyss shouts from her depth laid bare, Heaven, hast thou secrets ? Man unveils me ; I have
.. He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
YE that with me have fought and fail'd and fought
To the last desperate trench of battle's crest, Not yet to sleep, not yet; our work is nought; On that last trench the fate of all
rest. Draw near, my friends; and let your thoughts be high ;
Great hearts are glad when it is time to give ; Life is no life to him that dares not die,
And death no death to him that dares to live.
Draw near together ; none be last or first;
We are no longer names, but one desire ; With the same burning of the soul we thirst,
And the same wine to-night shall quench our fire. Drink! to our fathers who begot us men,
To the dead voices that are never dumb ; Then to the land of all our loves, and then To the long parting, and the age to come.
Now, God be thank'd Who has match'd us with His hour,
And caught our youth, and waken'd us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpen'd power,
To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,