I take this reed--I know the hand That wields it must ere long be dust-- And write, upon the fleeting sand Each wind can shake, the words, "I trust." And if that sand one day was stone And stood in courses near the sky, For towers by earthquake overthrown, Or mouldering piecemeal, what care I? Things earthly perish: life to death And death to life in turn succeeds. The spirit never perisheth: The chrysalis its Psyche breeds. True life alone is that which soars To Him who triumphed o'er the grave: With Him, on life's eternal shores, I trust one day a part to have. Ah, hark! above the springing corn That chime; in every breeze it swells! Ye bells that wake the Ascension morn, Ye give us back our Paschal bells! {44} _Elias._ IV. O thou that rodest up the skies, Thy task fulfilled, on steeds of fire,-- That somewhere, sealed from mortal eyes, Some air immortal dost respire! Thou that in heavenly beams enshrined, In quiet lulled of soul and flesh, With one great thought of God thy mind Dost everlastingly refresh! Where art thou? age succeeds to age; Thou dost not hear their fret and jar: With thy celestial hermitage Successive winters wage not war. Still as a corse with field-flowers strewn Thou liest; on God thine eyes are bent: And the fire-breathing stars alone Look in upon thy cloudy tent. Behold, there is a debt to pay! Like Enoch, hid thou art on high: But both shall back return one day, To gaze once more on earth, and die. {45} V. Stronger and steadier every hour The pulses of the season's glee, As toward her zenith climbs that Power Which rules the purple revelry. Trees, that from winter's grey eclipse Of late but pushed their topmost plume, Or felt with green-touched finger-tips For spring, their perfect robes assume. Like one that reads, not one that spells, The unvarying rivulet onward runs: And bird to bird, from leafier cells, Sends forth more leisurely response. Through the gorse covert bounds the deer:-- The gorse, whose latest splendours won Make all the fulgent wolds appear Bright as the pastures of the sun. A balmier zephyr curls the wave; More purple flames o'er ocean dance; And the white breaker by the cave Falls with more cadenced resonance; While, vague no more, the mountains stand With quivering line or hazy hue; But drawn with finer, firmer hand, And settling into deeper blue. {46} _Speculum Justitiae._ VI. Not in Himself the Eternal Word Lay hid upon creation's day: His Loveliness abroad He poured On all the worlds; and pours for aye. Not in Himself the Incarnate Son, In whom Man's race is born again, His glory hides. The victory won, He rose to send His "Gifts on Men."