XLII. THE ASSIGNATION. THE darkness throbbed that night with the great heat, I only heard the night's hot pulses beat Down the dark corridors; and once the sea Was there a man's soul ever worth her kiss? Silent and still I stood, and she drew near, And her lips mixed with mine, and her sweet breath Fanned my hot face; and afterward I wis, What the sea said to us I did not hear; But now I know it spake of Doom and Death. HERBERT E. CLARKE. XLIII. KING OF KINGS. O DEATH, Death, Death! Thou art the Lord of all, And at Thy darkened shrine I bow mine head In this Thy temple, where for Thee are shed Man's blood and tears: gods, kings, and temples fall; Thy reign, O Lord, is immemorial: Ever thou waxest stronger and more dread, More populous grows Thy kingdom of the dead, And joy and love and hope Thou hast in thrall. We follow vain desires and idle things, We vex our souls with hollow hopes and fears, Thou comest, O Almighty, King of kings, And tak'st each babbler to Thy breast at last. XLIV. THE BIRTH OF SPEECH. WHAT was't awakened first the untried ear Making sweet music out of air as sweet? HARTLEY COLERIDGE. XLV. SIN. IF I have sinned in act, I may repent ; My silent error, and yet feel no shame; Guilty in will, by fate be innocent, Or being bad yet murmurs at the curse And incapacity of being worse, That makes my hungry passion still keep Lent In keen expectance of a Carnival, Where, in all worlds that round the sun revolve And shed their influence on this passive ball, Abides a power that can my soul absolve? Could any sin survive and be forgiven, One sinful wish would make a hell of heaven. XLVI. PRAYER. THERE is an awful quiet in the air, And the sad earth, with moist imploring eye, Unfolds its tardy wreaths, and multiplies. Capacious ether, so it fades away, And nought is seen beneath the pendent blue, The undistinguishable waste of day. So have I dreamed!-oh, may the dream be true!That praying souls are purged from mortal hue, And grow as pure as He to whom they pray. |