Snar'd from their loyalty's glory to peril their lofty place, For a shrine that has never a god, their souls for a beautiful face.

What is it, darling of mine? You say you were vain and untrue?

Belov'd, in the darkest hour of that darkest night, I knew When the glamour past from your eyes, you would be your own self once more

And I, you know it full well, I lov'd you the same as before.

The same, though I gave you back, unshrinking, your plighted troth,

And told you, with tearless eyes, that I thought so best for us both;

But when you left me I knelt, and with crying and tears I crav'd,

Not, dear, that you might be mine, but that somehow you might be sav'd.

Sav'd, undegraded, unstain'd, from the breast of the ruin that mocks

With the semblance of holiest things, while it shears off the strong one's locks;

Sav'd to the grace and the glory that only the pure can

know,

The life that is warm as the sun, the life that is white as

the snow.

When you came from the wanderings home, I should scarcely have known you again,

For your face was chang'd so much with traces of struggle and pain,

And your eyes were so deep and sad, and even over your brow

My yellow harvest was dasht with a sprinkling of early

snow.

But O, my belov'd, my belov'd, that look in your face you had

The look for a woman who lov'd and had waited, to see and be glad ;

I knew you would come to the Father, come home from the stranger's country

I knew not how strong through the struggle my darling would come back to me.

You are weeping silently here! There are tears on the hand you hold!

"Poor little hand," you say, "undeckt of the marriage

gold."

Ah, but my dear, we shall know, when the time of the purpose is ripe,

Love in the glory unveil'd that needeth nor symbol nor type.

Stay from your weeping a while; so-raise my head on your breast;

Is the light passing away? No matter, this light is the best.

Think, love, when you're closing my eyes, and crossing my hands to-night,

"It never was grief that slew her, but overweight of delight."

For the harp that was lone so long, when it felt your hand once more

Lie light and strong on its strings, as in happy days of

yore,

In its agony of bliss, gave forth such music in token

To the dear, dear hand that swept, that its golden strings were broken.

I wanted to make you happy-but God will do so still; Has not His tenderness made it easy to trust His will? It will be morning soon-morning for me and for you— God be with you, my darling; He will be with me too.

BLUE AND WHITE.

"Of all the colours that are, say what may your favourite be?"

And the lad I had nurst back to life lookt up and made

answer to me,

"Two colours I choose, blue and white." Then up from my throat did there spread

Yea, up to my very temples, a dye of happy rose-red : For a maiden's face will flush for the lightest thing ever

more,

And blue was the ribbon that bound my hair, and white was the gown I wore.

"May I tell you all, lady sweet?" "Ay, sir, an it please you so."

Together and all alone we sat in the firelight's glow; Myself and the lad our men had found nigh dead close

The mother that bare him could never, I think, have nurst him more gently than I.

G

"Fair sister-nay, pardon the freedom-but oh you have been so good,

I well could wish that I ow'd you the duty of brother

hood;

Now crown your sweet favours with this, the greatest of all, and be

As tender to that true-love of mine as you have been tender to me."

The light seem❜d blurr'd away, and all was strange and dim

For a little space, as there I sat and listen'd to him :

A little space, but then, by the helping of God's dear

grace,

I spoke and answer'd, "Yea, brother, I will," with a very smile on my face.

"God bless you!" he said from his heart : "

a year ago

now listen;

She gave herself to me for ever and ever; and so,

One still, sweet Autumn eve, in the time of the falling of

dew,

I gemm'd that little white hand of hers with a circlet of sapphires blue.

For she, my own lady and love, takes ever the most

delight

In the delicate virginal calm of the colours I nam'd, blue and white;