Part 9 (1/2)

Then, when the clouds are off the soul, When thou dost bask in Nature's eye, Ask, how _she_ view'd thy self-control, Thy struggling task'd morality-- Nature, whose free, light, cheerful air, Oft made thee, in thy gloom, despair.

And she, whose censure thou dost dread, Whose eye thou wert afraid to seek, See, on her face a glow is spread, A strong emotion on her cheek.

”Ah child,” she cries, ”that strife divine-- Whence was it, for it is not mine?

”There is no effort on _my_ brow-- I do not strive, I do not weep.

I rush with the swift spheres, and glow In joy, and, when I will, I sleep.

Yet that severe, that earnest air I saw, I felt it once--but where?

”I knew not yet the gauge of Time, Nor wore the manacles of s.p.a.ce.

I felt it in some other clime-- I saw it in some other place.

--'Twas when the heavenly house I trod, And lay upon the breast of G.o.d.”

SELF-DEPENDENCE

Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of pa.s.sionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send: ”Ye who from my childhood up have calmed me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

”Ah, once more,” I cried, ”ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you!”

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, Over the lit sea's unquiet way, In the rustling night-air came the answer: ”Wouldst thou _be_ as these are? _Live_ as they.

”Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amus.e.m.e.nt, sympathy.

”And with joy the stars perform their s.h.i.+ning, And the sea its long moon-silvered roll; For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting All the fever of some differing soul.

”Bounded by themselves, and unregardful In what state G.o.d's other works may be, In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see.”

O air-born voice! long since, severely clear, A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear: ”Resolve to be thyself; and know that he, Who finds himself, loses his misery!”

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

ALL IS WELL

Whate'er you dream, with doubt possessed, Keep, keep it snug within your breast, And lay you down and take your rest; Forget in sleep the doubt and pain, And when you wake, to work again.

The wind it blows, the vessel goes, And where and whither, no ones knows.

'Twill all be well: no need of care; Though how it will, and when, and where, We cannot see, and can't declare.

In spite of dreams, in spite of thought, 'Tis not in vain, and not for nought, The wind it blows, the s.h.i.+p it goes, Though where and whither, no one knows.