Is there within thy heart a need
That mine cannot fulfil ?
One chord that any other hand
Could better wake or still?

Speak now decay.

It

- lest at some future day my whole life wither and

Lives there within thy nature hid

The demon-spirit change,
Shedding a passing glory still

On all things new and strange?

may not be thy fault alone, but shield my heart against thy own. Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day

And answer to my claim,

That Fate, and that to-day's mistake

Not thou had been to blame?

Some soothe their conscience thus; but thou wilt surely warn and save me now.

The words would come too late;

Yet I would spare thee all remorse,

So, comfort thee, my Fate, —

Whatever on my heart may fall-remember, I would risk it all!

ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.

O LAY THY HAND IN MINE, DEAR!

O, LAY thy hand in mine, dear!
We 're growing old;

But Time hath brought no sign, dear,
That hearts grow cold.

'Tis long, long since our new love

Made life divine;

But age enricheth true love,

Like noble wine.

And lay thy cheek to mine, dear,
And take thy rest;

Mine arms around thee twine, dear,
And make thy nest.
A many cares are pressing

On this dear head;

But Sorrow's hands in blessing
Are surely laid.

O, lean thy life on mine, dear!
'T will shelter thee.

Thou wert a winsome vine, dear,

On my young tree :

And so, till boughs are leafless,

And songbirds flown,

We'll twine, then lay us, griefless,

Together down.

GERALD MASSEY.

PART VI

Liberty and Patriotism

Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains; each a mighty voice:
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen music, Liberty.

There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside,
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons imparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth:
There is a spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his soften'd looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man ? - a patriot ?- look around;
O, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home!

PART VI

LIBERTY AND PATRIOTISM

OF OLD SAT FREEDOM ON THE HEIGHTS
Or old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet;
Above her shook the starry lights,
She heard the torrents meet.
There in her place she did rejoice,
Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind,
But fragments of her mighty voice
Came rolling on the wind.

Then stept she down through town and field
To mingle with the human race,
And part by part to men reveal'd

The fullness of her face

-

Grave mother of majestic works,
From her isle-altar gazing down,
Who God-like grasps the triple forks,
And king-like wears the crown.

Her open eyes desire the truth.

The wisdom of a thousand years
Is in them. May perpetual youth
Keep dry their light from tears;

That her fair form may stand and shine,

Make bright our days and light our dreams,

Turning to scorn with lips divine

The falsehood of extremes !

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

LOVE OF LIBERTY

O FOR a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumor of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful and successful war,

Might never reach me more. My ear is pained,