ggled; and I think that the great symphony
of sex has been deepened, heightened wellnigh beyond recognition, by
that confident and delicate wood-note.

* * * * *

"All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee:
All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem:
In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea:
Breath and bloom, shade and shine--wonder, wealth, and--how far
above them!--
Truth, that's brighter than gem,
Trust, that's purer than pearl--
Brightest truth, purest trust, in the universe, all were for me
In the kiss of one girl."

Nothing there of "Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever"! Do
the fortunate girls of to-day get _Summum Bonum_ in their albums (if
they have albums), as we of the past got Kingsley's ineffable pat on the
head? But since even for us to be a girl was bliss, these maidens of a
later day must surely be in paradise. They keep, in the words of our
poet, "much that we resigned"--much, too, that we prized. No girl, in
our day, but dreamed of the lordly lover, and I hazard a guess that the
fantasy persists. It is slower to be realised than even in our own
dream-period, for now it must come through the horn-gate of the maiden's
own judgment. Man has fallen from the self-erected pedestal of
"superiority." He had placed himself badly on it, such as it was--the
pose was ignoble, the balance insecure. One day, he will himself look
back, rejoicing that he is down; and when--or if--he goes up again, it
will be more worthily to stay, since other hands than his own will have
built the pillar, and placed him thereupon. His chief hope of
reinstatement lies in this one, certain fact: No girl will ever thrill
to a lover who cannot answer for her to _A Pearl, A Girl_--

"A simple ring with a single stone,
To the vulgar eye no stone of price:
Whisper the right word, that alone--
Forth starts a sprite, like fire from ice,
And lo! you are lord (says an Eastern scroll)
Of heaven and earth, lord whole and sole,
Through the power in a pearl.

A woman ('tis I this time that say)
With little the world counts worthy praise,
Utter the true word--out and away
Escapes her soul: I am wrapt in blaze,
Creation's lord, of heaven and earth
Lord whole and sole--by a minute's birth--
Through the lo