And on her lover’s arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls: Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.
The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
God gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.
The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
Science grows and Beauty dwindles.
The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
There is always change, bad customs pass and give way to better ones.
Of old sat Freedom on the heights The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights; She heard the torrents meet.
Red of the Dawn Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?
For love reflects the thing beloved.
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.
Till last by Philip’s farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
The white flower of a blameless life.
Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.
Love’s too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last-far off-at last, to all, And every winter change to spring.
The mighty hopes that make us men.