Oh, if we draw a circle premature,

Heedless of far gain,

Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure,

Bad is our bargain!

Was it not great? did not he throw on God,

(He loves the burthen)—

100

God's task to make the heavenly period

Perfect the earthen?

Did not he magnify the mind, show clear

105

Just what it all meant?

He would not discount life, as fools do here,

Paid by instalment.

Found, or earth's failure:

He ventured neck or nothing-heaven's success

110

'Wilt thou trust death or not?' He answered 'Yes! Hence with life's pale lure!'

That low man seeks a little thing to do,

Sees it and does it :

This high man, with a great thing to pursue, 115 Dies ere he knows it.

That low man goes on adding one to one,

His hundred 's soon hit:

This high man, aiming at a million,

Misses an unit.

120

That, has the world here-should he need the next
Let the world mind him!

This, throws himself on God, and unperplexed
Seeking shall find him.

So, with the throttling hands of death at strife,

Ground he at grammar;

Still, thro' the rattle, parts of speech were rife:
While he could stammer

He settled Hoti's business-let it be !-
Properly based Oun―

Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De,

Dead from the waist down.

126

130

Well, here's the platform, here's the proper place:

Hail to your purlieus,

All ye highfliers of the feathered race,

Swallows and curlews!

135

Here's the top-peak; the multitude below
Live, for they can, there :

This man decided not to Live but Know-
Bury this man there?

140

Here-here's his place, where meteors shoot, clouds form,

Lightnings are loosened,

Stars come and go! Let joy break with the storm,
Peace let the dew send!

Lofty designs must close in like effects :
Loftily lying,

Leave him still loftier than the world suspects,

Living and dying.

145

R. BROWNING.

347

PORPHYRIA'S LOVER

The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,

And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break,
When glided in Porphyria; straight

She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied

Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,

And made her smooth white shoulder bare,

She put my arm about her waist,

And all her yellow hair displaced,

And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread o'er all her yellow hair, Murmuring how she loved me-she

Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,

5

11

15

20

To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale

For love of her, and all in vain :

So, she was come through wind and rain Be sure I looked up at her eyes

Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshipped me; surprise

Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair

In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,

I warily oped her lids : again

25

31

35

40

Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. 45 And I untightened next the tress

About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still :
The smiling rosy little head,

So glad it has its utmost will,

That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,

And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
R. BROWNING.

50

60

348

RABBI BEN EZRA

1

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made :

Our times are in His hand

Who saith 'A whole I planned,

5

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!'

2

Not that, amassing flowers,

Youth sighed Which rose make ours, Which lily leave and then as best recall? Not that, admiring stars,

It yearned 'Nor Jove, nor Mars ;

10

Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!'

3

Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,

Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!

Rather I prize the doubt

Low kinds exist without,

15

Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.

4

Poor vaunt of life indeed,

Were man but formed to feed

On joy, to solely seek and find and feast:

Such feasting ended, then

As sure an end to men ;

Irks care the crop-full bird?

maw-crammed beast?

20

Frets doubt the

5

Rejoice we are allied

To That which doth provide

And not partake, effect and not receive!

A spark disturbs our clod;

Nearer we hold of God

25

Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe.

6

Then, welcome each rebuff

That turns earth's smoothness rough,

Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go !
Be our joys three-parts pain!

Strive, and hold cheap the strain;

30

35

Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

For thence,-a paradox

Which comforts while it mocks,

Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail :

What I aspired to be,

And was not, comforts me :

40

A brute I might have been, but would not sink i'

the scale.

8

What is he but a brute

Whose flesh hath soul to suit,

Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play? To man, propose this test

Thy body at its best,

46

How far can that project thy soul on its lone way?

9

Yet gifts should prove their use :

I own the Past profuse

Of power each side, perfection every turn:

Eyes, ears took in their dole,

Brain treasured up the whole;

50

Should not the heart beat once How good to live

and learn'?