ae." 1864.

The two first of these are inspired by the belief in the distinctness
and continuity of the soul's life; and represent love as a condition of
the soul with which positive experience has very little to do; but in
all the others it is treated as part of this experience, and subject for
the time being to its laws. The situation sketched--for it is nothing
more--in "CRISTINA" is that of a man and woman whom a glance has united,
and who both have recognized in this union the predestined object of
their life. The knowledge has only flashed on the woman's mind, to be
extinguished by worldly ambitions and worldly honours; and for her,
therefore, the union remains barren. But the existence of the man is
enriched and perfected by it. She has spiritually lost him, but _he_ has
gained _her_; for though she has drifted away from him, he retains her
soul. (This poetical paradox is the strong point of the poem.) It is
henceforth his mission to test their blended powers; and when that has
been accomplished, he will have done, he says, with this world.

"EVELYN HOPE" is the utterance of a love which has missed its fruition
in this life, but confidently anticipates it for a life to come. The
beloved is a young girl. The lover is three times her age, and was a
stranger to her; she is lying dead. But God, he is convinced, creates
love to reward love: and no matter what worlds must be traversed, what
lives lived, what knowledge gained or lost, before that moment is
reached, Evelyn Hope will, in the end, be given to him.

"LOVE AMONG THE RUINS" depicts a pastoral solitude in which are buried
the remains of an ancient city, fabulous in magnificence and in
strength. A ruined turret marks the site of a mighty tower, from which
the king of that city overlooked his domains, or, with his court,
watched the racing chariots as they encircled it in their course. In
that turret, in the evening grey, amidst the tinkling of the sheep, a
yellow-haired maiden is waiting for him she loves; and as they bury
sight and speech in each other's arms, he bids the human heart shut in
the centuries, with their triumphs and their follies, their glories and
their sins, for "Love is best."

"A LOVER'S QUARREL" describes, not the quarrel itself, but the
impression it leaves on him who has unwittingly provoked it: one of
amazement as well as sorrow, that such a thing could have occurred. The
speaker, apostrophizing his absent love, reminds her how h