Standing about the charmed root.
Round about all is mute,
As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks,
As the sandfield at the mountain-foot.
Crocodiles in briny creeks
Sleep and stir not: all is mute.
If ye sing not, if ye make false measure,
We shall lose eternal pleasure,
Worth eternal want of rest.
Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure
Of the wisdom of the West.
In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and

three (Let it not be preach'd abroad) make

an awful mystery: For the blossom unto threefold music

bloweth; Evermore it is born anew, And the sap to threefold music floweth, From the root, Drawn in the dark, Up to the fruit, Creeping under the fragrant bark, Líquid gold, honeysweet thró and thró.

(slow movement) Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily, Looking warily Every way, Guard the apple night and day, Lest one from the East come and take it

away.

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, Watch,

watch, night and day, Lest the old wound of the world be

healéd, The glory unsealéd, The golden apple stol'n away, And the ancient secret revealed. Look from West to East along: Father, old Himala weakens, Caucasus is

bold and strong. Wandering waters unto wandering waters

call; Let them clash together, foam and fall Out of watchings, out of wiles, Comes the bliss of secret smiles. All things are not told to all, Half-round the mantling night is draw Purplefringed with even and dawn Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth

morn.

II.

IV.

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, Watch,

Every flower and every fruit the redolen:

breath Of the warm seawind ripeneth,

Arching the billow in his sleep: But the land-wind wandereth,

Broken by the highland steep,

Two streams upon the violet deer. For the Western Sun, and the Wester:

Star,
And the low west-wind, breathing afar,
The end of day and beginning

night,

Keep the apple Holy and Bright: Holy and Bright, round and full, brig

Mellow'd in a land of rest :
Watch it warily night and day;

All good things are in the West.
Till mid-noon the cool East light
Is shut out by the round of the tall hill

brow, But, when the full-faced Sunset yel

lowly Stays on the flowerful arch of the

bough,
The luscious fruitage clustereth mel-

lowly,
Golden-kernell'd, Golden-cored,
Sunset-ripen'd above on the tree.
The world is wasted with fire and

sword,
But the Apple of gold hangs over the

Sea!
Five links — a Golden chain are we —
Hesper, the Dragon, and Sisters three,

Daughters three,
Round about,

All round about
The gnarl'd bole of the charméd tree.
The Golden Apple, The Golden Apple,

The hallow'd fruit,

Guard it well,
Guard it warily,
Watch it warily,

Singing airily,
Standing about the charmed root.

And in the hurry and the noise Great spirits grow akin to base. A sound of words that change to blows !

A sound of blows on armed breasts !

And individual interests Becoming bands of armed foes ! A noise of hands that disarrange

The social engine! fears that waste

The strength of men, lest overhaste Should fire the many wheels of change! Ill fares a people passion-wrought,

A land of many days that cleaves
In two great halves, when each one

leaves
The middle road of sober thought !
Not he that breaks the dams, but he

That thro' the channels of the state

Convoys the people's wish, is great; His name is pure, his fame is free: He cares, if ancient usage fade,

To shape, to settle, to repair,

With seasonable changes fair, And innovation grade by grade:

Or, if the sense of most require

A precedent of larger scope,
Not deals in threats, but works with

hope,
And lights at length on his desire:

THE STATESMAN.*

That is his portrait painted by himself. Look on those manly curls so glossy dark, Those thoughtful furrows in the swarthy

cheek; Admire that stalwart shape, those ample

brows, And that large table of the breast dis

pread, Between low shoulders; how demure a

smile, How full of wisest humour and of love, With some half-consciousness of inward

power, Sleeps round those quiet lips; not quite

a smile; And look you. what an arch the brain

has built Above the ear! and what a settled mind, Mature, harbour'd from change, oontem

plative, Tempers the peaceful light of hazel eyes, Observing all things. This is he I loved, This is the man of whom you heard me

speak. My fancy was the more luxurious, But his was minted in a dee per mould, And took in more of Nature than mine

Thro' his own nature, with well mingled

hues, Into another shape, born of the first, As beautitul, but yet another world.

All this so stirr'd him in his hour of joy, Mix'd with the phantom of his coming

fame, That once he spake: “I lift the eyes o

thought, I look thro' all my glimmering life, I see At the end, as 't were athwart a colour's

cloud, O'er the bow'd shoulder of a bland old

Age, The face of placid Death.” Long, Eus

tace, long Máy my strong wish, transgressing the

low bound Of mortal hope, act on Eternity To keep thee here amongst us! Yet be

lives; His and my friendship have not suffer'd

loss, His fame is equal to his years: bis

praise Is neither overdealt, nor idly won.

Step thro’ these doors, and I will show Another countenance, one yet more dear, More dear, for what is lost is made more

dear; “More dear” I will not say, but rather

bless The All-perfect Framer, Him, who made

the heart, Forethinking its twinfold necessity, Thro' one whole life an overflowing 4. ), Capacious both of Friendship and ci

Love.

to you

own:

Nor proved I such delight as he, to mark Thc humours of the polling and the

wake, The hubbub of the market and the

booths: How this one smiled, that other waved

Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Coopany.

his arms,

THREE POEMS OMITTED FROY

“IN MEMORIAM."

THE GRAVE (ORIGINALLY No, LVII.):*

These careful and those candid brows,

how each Down to his slightest turns and atti

tudes -Was something that another could not be, How every brake and flower spread and

rose, A various world! which he compellid

The happy maiden's tears are free

And she will weep and give them way;

Yet one unschoold in want will say “ The dead are dead and let them be.” Another whispers sick with loss :

“O let the simple slab remain !

The • Mercy Jesu' in the rain ! The • Miserere' in the moss!” “I love the daisy weeping dew,

I hate the trim-set plots of art !”

My friend, thou speakest from the heart, But look, for these are nature too.

* Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Company.

To A. H. H. (ORIGINALLY No. cvil.).*

II.

Young is the grief I entertain,

And ever new the tale she tells,

And ever young the face that dwells With reason cloister'd in the brain :

Yet grief deserves a nobler name:

She spurs an imitative will;

'Tis shame to fail so far, and still My failing shall be less my shame: Considering what mine eyes have seen,

And all the sweetness which thou wast

In thy beginnings in the past, And all the strength thou wouldst have

been :

Nor Sorrow beauteous in her youth, Nor Love that holds a constant mood. Ye must be wiser than your looks,

Or wise yourselves, or wisdom-led,

Else this wild whisper round my head Were idler than a flight of rooks. Go forward ! crumble down a throne,

Dissolve a world, condense a star,

Unsɔcket all the joints of war, And fuse the peoples into one.

* Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Company.

HAVELOCK. Nov. 25TH, 1857.*
Bold Havelock march'd,
Many a mile went he,
Every mile a battle,
Every battle a victory.
Bold Havelock march'd,
Charged with his gallant few,
Ten men fought a thousand,
Slew them and overthrew.
Bold Havelock march'd,
Wrought with his hand and his head,
March'd and thought and fought,
March'd and fought himself dead.
Bold Havelock died,
Tender and great and good,
And every man in Britain
Says “I am of Havelock's blood !”

* Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Com. pany.

JACK TAR.* THEY say some foreign powers have laid

their heads together To break the pride of Britain, and

bring her on her knees, There's a treaty, so they tell us, of some

dishonest fellows,
To break the noble pride of the Mis-

tress of the Seas.
Up, Jack Tars, and save us !
The whole world shall not brave us!
Up and save the pride of the Mis-

tress of the Seas ! * Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Company.

A master mind with master minds,

An orb repulsive of all hate,

A will concentric with all fate, A life four-square to all the winds.

* Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Company.

THE VICTOR HOURS (ORIGINALLY No.

CXXVII.),*

III.

ARE those the far-famed Victor Hours

That ride to death the griefs of men?

I fear not; if I feared them, then Is this blind flight the winged Powers. Behold, ye cannot bring but good,

And see, ye dare not touch the truth,

We quarrel here at home, and they plot

against us yonder, They will not let an honest Briton sit

at home at ease : Up, Jack Tars, my hearties! and the

d-1 take the parties ! Up and save the pride of the Mistress

of the Seas !
Up, Jack Tars, and save us !
The whole world shall not brave us !
Up and save the pride of the Mis-

The lasses and the little ones, Jack Tars,

they look to you! The despots over yonder, let 'em do

whate'er they please! God bless the little isle where a man may

still be true! God bless the noble isle that is Mis

tress of the Seas !
Up, Jack Tars, and save us !
The whole world shall not brave us:
If you will save the pride of the Mis-