as calmed the fever in my veins,
And I am strong to drink the cup that drains
The last drop through my lips, and make no moan.

Strength I have borrowed from the outward show
Of spiritual puissance thou dost wear.
Shall I not thy high domination share
Over the shock of feeling? Shall I grow

More fearful than the soldier, when between
The smoke of hostile cannon lies his way;
To carry far the colours of his queen,

While her bright eyes behold him in the fray?
Here do I smile between the warring hosts
Of sad farewells; and reek not what it costs.

SACRIFICE

And O most noble, and yet once again
Most noble spirit, if I ever did
Aught that thy goodness frowns on, be it hid
Forever, and deep-buried. Let the rain

Of coming springs fall on the quiet grave.
Perchance some violets will grow to tell
That I, when uttering this last farewell,
Built up a sacrificial architrave;

That I, who worship thee, have love so great,
To live in the horizon thou may'st set;
To stand but in the shadow of the gate,

Faithful, when coward promptings cry, "Forget."
Ah, lady, when I gave my heart to thee,
It passed into thy lifelong regency.

SHINE ON

Shine on, O sun! Sing on, O birds of song!
And in her light my heart fashions a tune
Not wholly sad, most like a tender rune
Sung by some knight in days gone overlong,

When he with minstrel eyes in Syrian grove
Looked out towards his England, and then drew
From a sweet instrument a sound that grew
From twilight unto morning of his love.

Go, then, beloved, bearing as you go
These songs that have more sunlight far than cloud;
More summer flowers than dead leaves 'neath the snow;

That tell of hopes from which you raised the shroud.
My lady, bright benignant star, shine on--

I lift to thee my low Trisagion!

HE that hath pleasant dreams is more fortunate
than one who hath a cup-bearer.
--Egyptian Proverb.

SO, THOU ART GONE

So, thou art gone; and I am left to we