Lectures Delivered Before the University of Oxford 1868

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Macmillan, 1869 - 124 ˹

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˹ 21 - Going to the Wars TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
˹ 37 - The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...
˹ 99 - LEAD, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home! Lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene one Step enough for me.
˹ 97 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
˹ 95 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realised, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
˹ 103 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
˹ 122 - Take me away, and in the lowest deep There let me be, And there in hope the lone night-watches keep, Told out for me. There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn, There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, Until the morn. There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast, Which ne'er can cease To throb, and pine, and languish, till possest Of its Sole Peace. There will I sing my absent Lord and Love : Take me away, That sooner I may rise, and go above, And see Him in the truth...
˹ 99 - I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on ; I loved to choose and see my path ; but now Lead Thou me on : I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years...
˹ 17 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought. And curst the hand that fired the shot. When in my arms burd ' Helen dropt. And died to succour me ! O think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak...
˹ 37 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope. LVI "So careful of the type?

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