his quiescence,

Still bidding crouch whom the

rest bade aspire. Blot out his name, then, - record one lost soul more,

One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod, One more triumph for devils, and sorrow for angels,

One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins; let him never come back to us!

There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain,

Forced praise on our part, — the glimmer of twilight,

Never glad confident morning again! Best fight on well, for we taught him,-strike gallantly,

Aim at our heart ere we pierce through his own; Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us, Pardoned in Heaven, the first by the throne!

ROBERT BROWNING.