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Through a Glass darkly.

45

What is the end of strife?

I know not, let me live my life.

How many days or e'er thou mean'st to

move?

I know not, let me love my love.
Were not things old once new?

I know not, let me do as others do.
And when the rest were overpast,

I know not, I will do my duty, said the

last.

Thy duty do? rejoined the voice,
Ah do it, do it, and rejoice;

But shalt thou then, when all is done,
Enjoy a love, embrace a beauty
Like these, that may be seen and won
In life, whose course will then be run;
Or wilt thou be where there is none?
I know not, I will do my duty.

And taking up the word around, above, below,

Some querulously high, some softly, sadly

low,

We know not, sang they all, nor ever need we know !

We know not, sang they, what avails to

know?

Whereat the questioning spirit, some short

space,

Though unabashed, stood quiet in his place. But as the echoing chorus died away

And to their dreams the rest returned apace,
By the one spirit I saw him kneeling low,
And in a silvery whisper heard him say:
Truly, thou knowst not, and thou needst
not know;

Hope only, hope thou, and believe alway.
I also know not, and I need not know,
Only with questionings pass I to and fro,
Perplexing these that sleep, and in their
folly

Imbreeding doubt and sceptic melancholy;
Till that their dreams deserting, they with

me,

Come all to this true ignorance and thee.

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LOVE

FAITH.

NOW Reverence is the bond for

man

With all of best his eyes discern;

TEACHES MORE THAN

CAN,

DOCTRINE

AND NO PURE HOPE WILL VAINLY

YEARN.

But all from depths of mystery grows
Which hide from us the root of things;
And good beyond what Science knows
To man his Faith's high reason brings.

To thee, to all, my sinking voice,

Beloved! would fain once more proclaim, In Christ alone mayst thou rejoice, Deceived by every other name.

In all but Him our sins have been,
And wanderings dark of doubtful mind;
In Him alone on earth is seen

God's perfect will for all mankind.

The shadows round me close and press,
But still that radiant orb I see,

And more I seem its light to bless

Than aught near worlds could give to me.

As light and warmth to noontide hours,
To sweetest voices tuneful songs,
And as to summer fields the flowers,
So heaven to heavenly souls belongs.

The Two Voices.

49

THE TWO VOICES.

THE SECOND VOICE.

SECOND voice was at mine ear,
A little whisper silver-clear,

A murmur, "Be of better cheer."

As from some blissful neighborhood,
A notice faintly understood,

"I see the end, and know the good."

A little hint to solace woe,

A hint, a whisper breathing low,
"I may not speak of what I know."

Like an Æolian harp that wakes
No certain air, but overtakes

Far thought with music that it makes.

Such seemed the whisper at my side: "What is it thou knowest, sweet voice?" I cried :

"A hidden hope," the voice replied:

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