Warden of hours and ages, here I dwell, Who saw young Keble pass, with sighing shook For good unborn; and, towards a willow nook, Pole, princely in the senate and the cell; And doubting the near boom of Osney bell, Turning on me that sweetly subtile look, Erasmus, in his breast an Attic book: Peacemakers all, their dreams to ashes fell. Naught steadfast may I image nor attain Save steadfast labour; futile must I grope After my god, like him, inconstant bright. But sun and shade must unto you remain Alternately a symbol and a hope, Men, spirits! of Emmanuel your Light. III. AD ANTIQUARIUM. My gentle Aubrey, who in everything Hadst of thy city’s youth so lovely lust, Yet never lineal to her towers august Thy spirit could fix, or perfectly upbring, Sleep, sleep! I ope, not unremembering, Thy comely manuscript, and, interthrust, Find delicate hueless leaves more sad than dust, Two centuries unkissed of any spring. Filling a homesick page beneath a lime, Thy mood beheld, as mine thy debtor’s now, The endless terraces of ended Time, Vague in green twilight. Goodly was release Into that Past where these poor leaves, and thou, Do freshen in the air of eldest peace. IV. ROOKS IN NEW COLLEGE GARDENS. Through rosy cloud, and over thorny towers, Their wings with darkling autumn distance filled, From Isis’ valley border, hundred-hilled, The rooks are crowding home as evening lowers: Not for men only, and their musing hours, By battled walls did gracious Wykeham build These dewy spaces early sown and stilled, These dearest inland melancholy bowers. Blest birds! A book held open on the knee Below, is all they guess of Adam’s blight: With surer art the while, and simpler rite, They follow Truth in some monastic tree, Where breathe against their docile breasts, by night, The scholar’s star, the star of sanctity. V. ON THE PRE-REFORMATION CHURCHES ABOUT OXFORD. Imperial Iffley, Cumnor bowered in green, And Templar Sandford in the boatman’s call, And sweet-belled Appleton, and Marcham wall That dost upon adoring ivies lean; Meek Binsey; Dorchester, where streams convene Bidding on graves thy solemn shadow fall; Clear Cassington that soars perpetual; Holton and Hampton Poyle, and towers between: If one of all in your sad courts that come, Belovèd and disparted! be your own, Kin to the souls ye had, while yet endures Some memory of a great communion known At home in quarries of old Christendom,— Ah, mark him: he will lay his cheek to yours. VI. ON THE SAME (CONTINUED).