ow that on some midnight sea
Whence none could lift the pall
A drowning hand was waved to me,
Then--swept beyond recall.

THE OLD DEBATE

His angels fell, and myriads grope
In doubt, for this dark cause alone,--
That God hath given them room for hope,
And made their struggling wills their own.

In the same breath, they plead for chains
And freedom; pray for ordered spheres,
Then murmur that the sun retains
Its course, unchecked by smiles or tears.

"The Omnipotent would grant us this,
Or else He is not good," they say;
But O, the Power withholds their bliss
Till they agree what prayer to pray.

A SONG OF HOPE

Not in those eyes, too kind for truth,
Which dare not note how beauties wane;
Nor in that crueller joy of youth
Which turns from sorrow with disdain;
No--no--not there,
Abides the hope that answers our despair.

Lie where they hid thy dead away.
Knock on that unrelenting door;
Then break, O desolate heart, and say
Farewell, farewell, for evermore ...
There, only there,
Abides the hope that conquers all despair.

The silence that refused to bless
Till grief had turned the heart to stone ...
What soul compact of nothingness
Could hear so fierce a trumpet blown?
Then hear, O hear,
The dreadful hope that equals all despair.

There, till the deep atoning Might
Shall answer all that each can pray,
The very boundlessness of night
Proclaims--and waits--an equal day.
There, only there,
--_But O, sing low, sweet strings, lest hope take wing!_--
Abides the hope that answers all despair.

THE HEDGE-ROSE OPENS

How passionately it opens after rain,
And O, how like a prayer
To those great shining skies! Do they disdain
A bride so small and fair?
See the imploring petals, how they part
And utterly lay bare
The perishing treasures of that piteous heart
In wild surrender there.
What? Would'st _thou_, too, drink up the Eternal bliss,
Ecstatically dare,
O, little bride of God, to invoke _His_ kiss?--
But O, how like a prayer!

THE MAY-TREE

The May-tree on the hill
Stands in the night
So fragrant and so still,
So dusky white.

That, stealing from the wood
In that sweet air,
You'd think Diana stood