After the modest spell of prayer,
That saves the day from sin and care,
And the upward eye a void descries,
And praises are hypocrisies,
And in the soul o'erstrained for grace,
A godless anguish grows apace;
Or, if impartial charity

Seems, in the act, a sordid lie,
Do not infer you cannot please
God, or that he his promises
Postpones, but be content to love
No more than he accounts enough.
Every ambition bears a curse,

And none, if height metes error, worse
Than his who sets his hope on more
Godliness than God made him for.
Account them poor enough who want
Any good thing which you can grant;
And fathom well the depths of life
In loves of husband and of wife,
Child, mother, father; simple keys
To all the Christian mysteries.

"THAT NOTHING HERE MAY WANT ITS PRAISE, KNOW SHE WHO BY HER DRESS REVEALS

IV.

The love of marriage claims, above
Each other kind, the name of love,
As being, though not so saintly high
As what seeks heaven with single eye,
Sole perfect. Equal and entire,
Therein benevolence, desire,

Elsewhere ill-joined, or found apart,
Become the pulses of one heart,
Which now contracts and now dilates,
And, each to the height exalting, mates

BEAUTY CONDITIONAL TO LOVE."-PATMORE.

A FINE AND MODEST TASTE, DISPLAYS MORE LOVELINESS THAN SHE CONCEALS."-PATMORE.

"WOULD WISDOM FOR HERSELF BE WOOED, AND WAKE THE FOOLISH FROM HIS DREAM,

IN THE ARITHMETIC OF LIFE-(COVENTRY PATMORE)

A WEDDING SERMON.

335

Self-seeking to self-sacrifice.
Nay, in its subtle paradise
(When purest) this one love unites
All modes of these two opposites,
All balanced in accord so rich,
Who may determine which is which?
Chiefly God's love does in it live,
And nowhere else so sensitive;
For each is all that the other's eye,
In the vague vast of Deity,

Can comprehend and so contain
As still to touch and ne'er to strain
The fragile nerves of joy. And, then,
'Tis such a wise goodwill to men
And politic economy

As in a prosperous state we see,
Where every plot of common land
Is yielded to some private hand
To fence about and cultivate.
Does narrowness its praise abate?
Nay, the infinite of man is found
But in the beating of its bound,
And if a brook its banks o'erpass,
'Tis not a sea, but a morass.

V.

Without God's Word, no wildest guess
Of love's most innocent loftiness
Had dared to dream of its own height;
But that bold sunbeam quenched the night,
Showing heaven's happiest symbols, where
The torch of Psyche flashed despair;
Proclaiming love, even in divine
Realms, to be male and feminine

THE SMALLEST UNIT IS A PAIR."-COVENTRY PATMORE.

SHE MUST BE GLAD AS WELL AS GOOD, AND MUST NOT ONLY BE, BUT SEEM."-PATMORE.

"SWEET ORDER HATH ITS DRAUGHT OF BLISS GRACED WITH THE PEARL OF GOD'S CONSENT,

336

'TOO LONG REGarded, roses EVEN-(COVENTRY PATMORE)

COVENTRY PATMORE.

(Christ's marriage with the church is more,
My children, than a metaphor);
And aye by names of bride and wife,
Husband and bridegroom, heaven's own life
Picturing, so proved theirs to be
The earth's unearthliest sanctity.

Herein I speak of heights, and heights
Are hardly scaled. The best delights
Of even this homeliest passion, are
In the most perfect souls so rare,
That who feel them are as men
Sailing the southern ocean, when,
At midnight, they look up, and eye
The starry Cross, and a strange sky

Of brighter stars; and sad thoughts come

To each how far he is from home.

[From "The Angel in the House," Part II., book ii.-Speaking of this poem, a thoughtful critic* has remarked that the writer's conception of the female character "is that of a high-minded, pure-hearted, and impassioned man, who worships and respects as well as loves a woman. His delineation of the growth of love in a woman's heart is delicate and subtle, and the lofty aspirations and unselfish enthusiasm he associates with the passion of his hero no less true to the type he has chosen..... There are in this poem many admirable passages in which sentiments of sterling worth and beauty are expressed with great force and felicity of language."]

W

THE CIRCLES.

ITHIN yon world-wide cirque of war,
What's hidden that they fight so for?"
My guide made answer : "Rich increase
Of virtue and use, which are by peace,

TEN TIMES ECSTATIC IN THAT 'TIS CONSIDERATE AND INNOCENT."-COVENTRY PATMORE.

"BE MAN'S HARD VIRTUES HIGHLY WROUGHT, BUT LET MY GENTLE MISTRESS BE-(PATMORE)

SUCH PERFECT FRIENDS ARE TRUTH AND LOVE-(PATMORE)

.

For many an end; and others, wise,
Explore the grass and read the skies."
"Can the stars' motions give me peace,
Or the herbs' virtues mine increase?
Of all this shell of use," said I,

"Would that I might the kernel spy !"
"Go further in," he said, "and see,
Secure and fair, Society."

And so within that busy round

I brake and came to calmer ground.
Here men and women, great and small,
Were ever talking, idly all.

"The lip of scorn might well be curled
At such excuse for such a world!"
Sighed I. But guided through the loud
Elated and unfruitful crowd,
An inner circle still I reached,
Where sang a few and many preached
Of life immortal. "But," I said,
"The riddle yet I have not read.
Life I must know, that care I may
For life in me to last for aye.'
Then he: "Those voices are a charm
To keep yon dove-cot out of harm."
In the centre, then, he showed a tent
Where laughing safe a woman bent
Over her babe, and, her above,
Leaned in his turn a graver love.
"Behold the two idolatries,

By which," cried he, "the world defies
Chaos and death, and for whose sake

All else must war, and work, and wake."

[From "Tamerton Church Tower, and Other Studies."]

THAT NEITHER LOVES WHERE BOTH ARE NOT."-PATMORE.

IN EVERY LOOK, WORD, DEED, AND THOUGHT, NOTHING BUT SWEET AND WOMANLY!"-PATMORE.

"I THINK THAT LOVE IS LIKE A PLAY, WHERE TEARS AND SMILES ARE BLENDED;

338

"SWEET ARE THE LINKS THAT BIND US TO OUR KIND,

WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED.

Winthrop Mackworth Praed.

[PRAED's poetry, or Vers de Société, is brilliant, fluent, and vigorous,
with many happy touches, and a fascinating air of easy grace; but the poet
never soars into any very lofty region, or strings his lyre to any very
passionate strains. The gems are carefully polished and richly set; but
they are not" orient pearls," much less diamonds or rubies. A writer in
the Quarterly Review very justly says of Praed's poetical effusions, that
"throughout they exhibit a remarkable fluency of language and quickness
in verse, with many strokes of truthful observation; yet the effect of his
longer poems is wearisome. Even the bright and abundant fancy with
which he has been properly credited does not conceal from us that, when
attempting to deal with chivalrous themes, or stories of medieval romance
and passion, Praed rarely rises above an ingenious but mechanical repro-
duction of the thoughts of stronger men.
The materials are put together
neatly enough; but there is no poetical fusion into a whole, no sign of
creative fire,―much glitter, but little warmth."

Winthrop Mackworth Praed was born in 1802, and died in 1839. He
enjoyed for some years a seat in Parliament; and in 1835 was Secretary to
the Board of Control. His premature death cut short a career of great
promise.]

OR LIKE A FAITHLESS APRIL DAY, WHOSE SHINE WITH SHOWER IS ENDED."-PRAED.

SKETCH OF A YOUNG LADY FIVE MONTHS OLD.

M

Y pretty, budding, breathing flower,
Methinks, if I to-morrow

Could manage, just for half an hour,
Sir Joshua's brush to borrow,

I might immortalize a few

Of all the myriad graces

Which Time, while yet they all are new,
With newer still replaces.

I'd paint, my child, your deep blue eyes,
Their quick and earnest flashes;
I'd paint the fringe that round them lies,
The fringe of long dark lashes;

MEEK, BUT UNYIELDING,-felt, BUT UNDEFINED."-PRAED.