Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou :
Our wills are ours, we know not low ,

Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be :
They are but broken lights of thee,

And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith : we cannot know ;
For knowledge is of things we so
And yet we trust it comes from thee,

A beam in darkness : let it grow

Let knowledge grow from inore to more, But nore of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well,

May make one music as before,

But waster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thcc when we do not fear :
But help thy foolish ones to bear;

Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,

Aloi not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thce, and there

i md him worthier to be loved.

Fort o these . ...d wandering crics, onfusions of a wasted youth ; roorgive them where they fail in truth, And in thy wisdom make me wise. 1849.

i HELD it truth, with him who sings
To one J oir harp in divers tones,
That men nay rise on stepping-stones

Of their dead selves to higher things.

But who shall so forecast the jvai*
And find in loss a gain to mateh /
Or reach a hand thro' time to cateh

The far-off interest of tears 1

Let Love clasp Grief lest both lje drownM,
Let darkness keep her raven gloss:
Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss,

To dance with death, to beat the ground,

Than that the victor Hours should scorn
The long result of love, and Iwast,
'Behold the man that loved and lost,

Liu. alt he was is overworn.'

i:

| Who changest not in any gale, Nor branding summer suns avail To touch thy thousand years of gloom:

And gazing on thee, sullen tree,
Sick for thy stubborn hardihood,
I seem to fail from out my blood

And grow incorporate into thee.