egan
Whate'er of might the mind hath wrought--
Whate'er of Godlike comes from Man
Springs from one lightning-flash of thought!
For years the marble block awaits
The breath of life, beneath the soil--
A happy thought the work creates,
A moment's glance rewards the toil.
As suns that weave from out their blaze
The various colours round them given;
As Iris, on her arch of rays,
Hovers, and vanishes from heaven;
So fair, so fleeting every prize--
A lightning flash that shines and fades--
The Moment's brightness gilds the skies
And round the brightness close the shades.

EXPECTATION AND FULFILMENT.

O'er ocean with a thousand masts sails on the young man bold--
One boat, hard-rescued from the deep, draws into port the old!

* * * * *

TO THE PROSELYTE--MAKER.

"A little Earth from out the Earth, and I
The Earth will move"--so said the sage divine;
Out of myself one little moment try
Myself to take;--succeed, and I am thine.

* * * * *

VALUE AND WORTH.

If thou _hast_ something, bring thy goods, a fair return be
thine!--
If thou _art_ something--bring thy soul, and interchange with mine.

* * * * *

THE FORTUNE-FAVOURED. [10]

[Footnote 10: The first verses in the original of this poem are placed
as a motto on Goethe's statue at Weimar.]

Ah! happy He, upon whose birth each god
Looks down in love, whose earliest sleep the bright
Idalia cradles, whose young lips the rod
Of eloquent Hermes kindles--to whose eyes,
Scarce waken'd yet, Apollo steals in light,
While on imperial brows Jove sets the seal of might.
Godlike the lot ordain'd for him to share,
He wins the garland ere be runs the race;
He learns life's wisdom ere he knows life's care,
And, without labour vanquish'd, smiles the Grace.
Great is the man, I grant, whose strength of mind,
Self-shapes its objects and subdues the Fates--
Virtue subdues the Fates, but cannot bind
The fickle Happiness, whose smile awaits
Those who scarce seek it; nor can courage earn
What the Grace showers not from her own free urn!

From aught _unworthy_, the determined will
Can guard the watchful spirit--there it ends.
The all that's _glorious_ from the heaven descends;
As some sweet mistress loves us, freely still
Come the spontaneous gif