Brothers in heart, they hope to gain 5 An undivided joy; That man may one with man remain, As boy was one with boy. Christ heard; and willed that James should fall, First prey of Satan’s rage; 10 John linger out his fellows all, And die in bloodless age. Now they join hands once more above, Before the Conqueror’s throne; Thus God grants prayer, but in his love 15 Makes times and ways his own. _John Henry Newman._ CCXCI _IN MEMORIAM._ Fair ship, that from the Italian shore Sailest the placid ocean-plains With my lost Arthur’s loved remains, Spread thy full wings, and waft him o’er. So draw him home to those that mourn 5 In vain; a favourable speed Ruffle thy mirrored mast, and lead Through prosperous floods his holy urn. All night no ruder air perplex Thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright 10 As our pure love, through early light Shall glimmer on the dewy decks. Sphere all your lights around, above; Sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow; Sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now, 15 My friend, the brother of my love. My Arthur! whom I shall not see Till all my widowed race be run; Dear as the mother to the son, More than my brothers are to me. 20 _Alfred Tennyson._ CCXCII _IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE HON. EDWARD ERNEST VILLIERS._ A grace though melancholy, manly too, Moulded his being; pensive, grave, serene, O’er his habitual bearing and his mien Unceasing pain, by patience tempered, threw A shade of sweet austerity. But seen 5 In happier hours and by the friendly few, That curtain of the spirit was withdrawn, And fancy light and playful as a fawn, And reason imped with inquisition keen, Knowledge long sought with ardour ever new, 10 And wit love-kindled, showed in colours true What genial joys with sufferings can consist; Then did all sternness melt as melts a mist Touched by the brightness of the golden dawn, Aërial heights disclosing, valleys green, 15 And sunlights thrown the woodland tufts between, And flowers and spangles of the dewy lawn.