pursue. And a Voice above their beat- 50 "Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me." I sought no more that after which I strayed In face of man or maid; But still within the little children's eyes Seems something, something that replies: Across the margent of the world I fled, They at least are for me, surely for me! And troubled the gold gateways of the I turned me to them very wistfully; But, just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. 60 When she lit her glimmering tapers And pulled my life upon me; grimed with I laughed in the morning's eyes. weather, Heaven and I wept together, smears, 120 I stand amid the dust o' the mounded years My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap. And its sweet tears were salt with mortal My days have crackled and gone up in |