as a man to whom a dreadful loss
Falls in a far land, and he knows it not."

"The long way smoke beneath him in his fear."

"Then, after all was done that hand could do,
She rested, and her desolation came
Upon her, and she wept beside the way."

"Seam'd with an ancient sword-cut on the cheek,
And bruised and bronzed, she lifted up her eyes
And loved him, with that love which was her doom."

"And in the meadows tremulous aspen-trees
And poplars made a noise of falling showers."

"No greatness, save it be some far-off touch
Of greatness to know well I am not great."

"Hurt in the side, whereat she caught her breath;
Through her own side she felt the sharp lance go."

"Rankled in him and ruffled all his heart,
As the sharp wind that ruffles all day long
A little bitter pool about a stone
On the bare coast."

"Thy shadow still would glide from room to room,
And I should evermore be vext with thee
In hanging robe or vacant ornament,
Or ghostly footfall echoing on the stair."

"Far off a solitary trumpet blew.
Then, waiting by the doors, the war-horse neigh'd
As at a friend's voice, and he spake again."

"Through the thick night I hear the trumpet blow."

"And slipt aside, and like a wounded life
Crept down into the hollows of the wood."

"Then Philip, with his eyes
Full of that lifelong hunger, and his voice
Shaking a little like a drunkard's hand."

"Had he not
Spoken with That, which being everywhere
Lets none, who speaks with Him, seem all alone,
Surely the man had died of solitude."

"Because things seen are mightier than things heard."

"For sure no gladlier does the stranded wreck
See through the gray skirts of a lifting squall
The boat that bears the hope of life approach
To save the life despair'd of, than he saw
Death dawning on him, and the close of all."

"And he lay tranced; but when he rose and paced
Back toward his solitary home again,
All down the narrow street he went,
Beating it in upon his weary brain,
As though it were the burthen of a song,
'Not to tell her, never to let her know.'"

"Torn as a sail that leaves the rope is torn
In tempest."

"Nay, one there is, and at the eastern end,
Wealthy with wandering lines of mount and mere."

"Prick'd with incredible pinnacles into heaven."

"An out-door sign of all the warmth within,
Smiled with his lips--a