Fantastic gables, crowding, stared: but she Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity: Peeped - but his eyes, before they had their will, And she, that knew not, passed: and all at once, Her bower; whence reissuing, robed and crowned, EXTRACT FROM "THE PRINCESS." The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink We two will serve them both in aiding her— But diverse could we make her as the man, Tennyson. Yet in the long years liker must they grow; He gain in sweetness and in moral height, Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world; Till at the last she set herself to man, Like perfect music unto noble words; And so these twain, upon the skirts of Time, Distinct in individualities, But like each other even as those who love. Then comes the statelier Eden back to men: Then reign the world's great bridals, chaste and calm: EXTRACT FROM THE "RHYME OF THE DUCHESS MAY." Mrs. Browning. Ho! the breach yawns into ruin, and roars up against her suing,— Toll slowly! With the inarticulate din, and the dreadful falling in Shrieks of doing and undoing! Twice he wrung her hands in twain; but the small hands closed again, Toll slowly! Back he reined the steed-back, back! but she trailed along his track, With a frantic clasp and strain! Evermore the foeman pour through the crash of window and door,Toll slowly! And the shouts of Leigh and Leigh, and the shrieks of "kill!" and "flee!" Strike up clear the general roar, Thrice he wrung her hands in twain, but they closed and clung again, Toll slowly! Wild she clung, as one, withstood, clasps a Christ upon the rood, In a spasm of deathly pain. Back he reined his steed, back-thrown on the slippery coping stone, Toll slowly! Back the iron hoofs did grind, on the battlement behind, And his heel did press and goad on the quivering flank bestrode, Toll slowly! "Friends, and brothers! save my wife! - Pardon, sweet, in change for life, But I ride alone to God!" Strait as if the Holy name did upbreathe her as a flame, Toll slowly! She upsprang, she rose upright! - in his selle she sat in sight; By her love she overcame. And her head was on his breast, where she smiled as one at rest,Toll slowly! "Ring," she cried, "O vesper-bell, in the beech-wood's old chapelle ! But the passing bell rings best." They have caught out at the rein, which Sir Guy threw loose-in vain, Toll slowly! For the horse in stark despair, with his front hoofs poised in air, On the last verge, rears amain. And he hangs, he rocks between and his nostrils curdle in, Toll slowly! And he shivers head and hoof- and the flakes of foam fall off; And his face grows fierce and thin! And a look of human woe, from his staring eyes did go And a sharp cry uttered he, in a foretold agony Of the headlong death below, Toll slowly! And, "Ring, ring, — thou passing bell," still she cried, "i' the c.d chapelle ! Toll slowly! Then back-toppling, crashing back. -a dead weight flung out to wrack, Horse and riders overfell! EXTRACT FROM "THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY." Bernard of Cluni. Trans. by John Mason Neale For thee, O dear, dear Country! Mine eyes their vigils keep; For very love, beholding Thy happy name, they weep. The mention of thy glory Is unction to the breast, And medicine in sickness, And love, and life, and rest. O one, O onely Mansion! O Paradise of Joy! Where tears are ever banished, And smiles have no alloy, Beside thy living waters All plants are, great and small, The cedar of the forest, The hyssop of the wall; With jaspers glow thy bulwarks, Thy streets with emeralds blaze, The sardius and the topaz Unite in thee their rays; Thou hast no shore, fair Ocean! To pilgrims far away! Upon the Rock of Ages They raise thy holy tower; |