The terrors of truth and dart of death To faith alike are vain; Though comets, gone a thousand years, Return again, Patient she stands--she can no more-- And waits, nor heeds she waxes hoar. (_At a stony gate, A statue of stone, Weed overgrown-- Long ’twill wait!_) But God his former mind retains, Confirms his old decree; The generations are inured to pains, And strong Necessity Surges, and heaps Time’s strand with wrecks. The People spread like a weedy grass, The thing they will they bring to pass, And prosper to the apoplex. The rout it herds around the heart, The ghost is yielded in the gloom; Kings wag their heads--Now save thyself Who wouldst rebuild the world in bloom. (_Tide-mark And top of the ages’ strike, Verge where they called the world to come, The last advance of life-- Ha ha, the rust on the Iron Dome!_) Nay, but revere the hid event; In the cloud a sword is girded on, I mark a twinkling in the tent Of Michael the warrior one. Senior wisdom suits not now, The light is on the youthful brow. (_Ay, in caves the miner see: His forehead bears a blinking light; Darkness so he feebly braves-- A meagre wight!_) But He who rules is old--is old; Ah! faith is warm, but heaven with age is cold. (_Ho ho, ho ho, The cloistered doubt Of olden times Is blurted out!_) The Ancient of Days forever is young, Forever the scheme of Nature thrives; I know a wind in purpose strong-- It spins _against_ the way it drives. What if the gulfs their slimed foundations bare? So deep must the stones be hurled Whereon the throes of ages rear The final empire and the happier world. (_The poor old Past, The Future’s slave, She drudged through pain and crime To bring about the blissful Prime, Then--perished. There’s a grave!_) Power unanointed may come-- Dominion (unsought by the free) And the Iron Dome, Stronger for stress and strain, Fling her huge shadow athwart the main; But the Founders’ dream shall flee. Agee after age shall be As age after age has been, (From man’s changeless heart their way they win); And death be busy with all who strive-- Death, with silent negative. YEA, AND NAY-- EACH HATH HIS SAY; BUT GOD HE KEEPS THE MIDDLE WAY. NONE WAS BY WHEN HE SPREAD THE SKY; WISDOM IS VAIN, AND PROPHESY. Apathy and Enthusiasm. (1860-1.) I