BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Ohai). Copyright No. Shelf- » S__5 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. My thanks are due Messrs. Harper & Brothers for their courteous permission to reprint extracts from their recently published volumes, " The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett." 63 L?.4240. COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY JAMES POTT & CO 41 9 78 Library ^f Con^reac ■• vvo Copies Received SEP 1 1900 CtfyngM entry ScCrm} COPY. Qii\JiH DIVISION. Mt 6 1900 TO WILLIAM EWEN SHIPP, Killed while leading a charge on San Juan Hill, July ist, 1898. O lover of my life, O soldier-saint, No work begun shall ever pause for death ! Love will be helpful to me more and more r the coming course, the new path I must tread, My weak hand in thy strong hand, strong for that ! Tell him that if I seem without him now, That's the world's insight ! Oh, he under- stands ! The Ring and the Book. — ROBEET Beowning. JANUARY. January isf. / Grow old along with me ! -J The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made : Our times are in His hand Who saith "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God : see all, nor be afraid ! ' ' Rabin Ben Ezra. — R. B. The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, *' Let no one be called happy till his death." To which I add, — Let no one till his death Be called unhappy. Measure not the work Until the day's out and the labor done. Aurora Leigh. — ^E. B. B, God plants us where we grow. The Bing and the Book.—n. B. BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS January 2d. *' How good is man's life, the mere living ! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses for- ever in joy ! *' Didst thou see the thin hands of thy mother, held up as men sung The low song of the nearly-departed, and hear her faint tongue Joining in while it could to the witness, ' Let one more attest, T have lived, seen God's hand thro' a life- time, and all was for the best ! ' " Saul.—R. B. There are nettles everywhere, But smooth green grasses are more common still ; The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud. Aurora Leigh, — E. B. B. FROM BBOWNINQ January }d. I think we are too ready with complaint In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope Of yon grey bank of sky, we might be faint To muse upon eternity's constraint Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope Must widen early, is it well to droop For a few days consumed in loss and taint ? O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted, — And like a cheerful traveller, take the road. Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod To meet the flints? — At least, it may be said, ** Because the way is shorty I thank Thee, God ! " Cheerfulness Taught by Reason. — E. B. B. Respect all such as sing when all alone. Faracelaus, — K. B. 10 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS January 4th. To have to do with nothing but the true, The good, the eternal — and these, not alone In the main current of the general life. But small experiences of every day, Concerns of the particular hearth and home : To learn not only by a comet's rush But a rose's birth, — not by the grandeur, God,— But the comfort, Christ. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. He sets his virtues on so raised a shelf. To keep them at the grand millennial height. He has to mount a shelf to get at them ; And meantime, lives on quite the common way. With everybody's morals. Aurora Leigh, — E. B. B. January ^th. That low man seeks a little thing to do. Sees it and does it : This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. FROM BROWNING 11 That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundred's soon hit : This high man, aiming at a miUion, Misses an unit. That, has the world here — should he need the next, Let the world mind him ! This, throws himself on God, and unper- plexed Seeking shall find Him. A Orammarian'8 Funeral. — R. B. And truth outlives pain, as the soul does life. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. January 6th. ' We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem, The dumb kine from their fodder turning them. Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Toward the newly Born. The simple shepherds from the starlit brooks Brought visionary looks, 12 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS As yet in their astonished hearing rung The strange, sweet angel-tongue. The magi of the East, in sandals worn. Knelt reverent, sweeping round, AVith long pale beards their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh and gold. These baby hands were impotent to hold. So, let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state ! Sleep, sleep, my kingly One ! The Virgin Mary to the Child Jema.—E. B. B. January yth. Great is he Who uses his greatness for all. . . . . happy is he, Of whom (himself among the dead And silent, ) this word shall be said ; — That he might have had the world with him, But chose to side with suffering men, And had the world against him. Napoleon III. in Italy,— E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 13 Think, when our one soul understands The great Word which makes all things new, When earth breaks up and heaven expands, How will the change strike me and you In the house not made with hands ? By the Fireside,—^. B. January 8th, But to go back to the view of life with the blind hopes ; you are not to think — whatever I may have written or implied — that I lean either to the philosophy or affectation which beholds the world through darkness instead of light, and speaks of it wailingly. Now God forbid that it should be so with me. I am not desponding by nature, and after a course of bitter mental discipline and long bodily seclusion, I come out with two learnt lessons (as I sometimes say and oftener feel,) — ^the wisdom of cheerfulness — and the duty of social intercourse. Anguish has instructed me in joy, and solitude in society; it has 14 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS been a wholesome and not unnatural reac- tion. And altogether, I may say that the earth looks the brighter to me in proportion to my own deprivations. The laburnum trees and rose trees are plucked up by the roots — but the sunshine is in their places, and the root of the sunshine is above the storms. — From The Letters of Bobet-t Browning mid Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. January pth. But friends, Truth is within ourselves ; it takes no rise From outward things, whate'er you may be- lieve : There is an inmost centre in us all, Where truth abides in fullness ; and around Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems in it, This perfect, clear perception — which is truth ; A baffling and perverting carnal mesh Blinds it and makes all error; and '* fo know^' Rather consists in opening out a way FROM BROWNING 15 Whence the imprisoned splendor may escape, Than in effecting entrance for a light Supposed to be without. Paracelsus. — R. B. . . . . cognizant of life Beyond this blood-beat, — passionate for truth Beyond these senses. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. January loth. Pleasures, pains affect mankind Just as they affect myself? Why, here's my neighbor color-blind, Eyes like mine to all appearance : '* green as grass " do I affirm? *'Red as grass" he contradicts me — which employs the proper term ? Were we two the earth's sole tenants, with no third for referee. How should I distinguish? Just so, God must judge *twixt man and me. La Saisiaz. — R. B. Now, who shall arbitrate ? Ten men love what I hate, 16 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Shun what I follow, slight what I receive ; Ten, who in ears and eyes Match me : we all surmise, They, this thing, and I, that : whom shall my soul believe? BahU Ben Ezra, — R. B. January nth. O we live, O we live — And this life that we perceive. Is a great thing and a grave, Which for others* use we have, Duty-laden to remain. We are helpers, fellow-creatures, Of the right against the wrong. We are earnest-hearted teachers Of the truth that maketh strong. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. How the world is made for each of us ! How all we perceive and know in it Tends to some moment's product thus, When a soul declares itself — to wit. By its fruit, the thing it does ! By the Fireside, — R. B. FROM BROWNING 17 January 12th. All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist ; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each sur- vives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard. The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard ; Enough that He heard it once: we shall hear it by and by. And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence For the fullness of the days? Have we withered or agonized ? 18 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence ? Why rushed the discords in, but that har- mony should be prized ? AM Vogler.—R. B. January ijth. Oh you, Earth's tender and impassioned few, Take courage to entrust your love To Him so named, who guards above Its ends and shall fulfill ; Breaking the narrow prayers that may Befit your narrow hearts, away In His broad, loving will. IsobeVa Child.— E. B. B. And, all day, I sent prayer like incense up To God the strong, God the beneficent, God ever mindful in all strife and strait. Who, for our own good, makes the need ex- treme. Till at the last He puts forth might and saves. The Ming and the Book. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 19 January 14th. When a soul has seen By means of the Evil that Good is best, And, through earth and its noises, what is heaven's serene, — When our faith in the same has stood the test — Why, the child grown man, you burn the rod, The uses of labor are surely done ; There remaineth a rest for the people of God. Old Pictures in Florence. — R. B. Ay, men may wonder while they scan A living, thinking, feehng man. Confirmed in such a rest to keep ; But angels say, and through the word I think their happy smile is heard — *' He giveth His beloved sleep ! " The Sleep.— Ys. B. B. January i^th. Let us be content, in work. To do the thing we can, and not presume, To fret because it's little. 'Twill employ 20 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Seven men, they say, to make a perfect pin : Who makes the head, content to miss the point. Who makes the point, agreed to leave the join : And if a man should cry, '' I want a pin, And I must make it straightway, head and point," His wisdom is not worth the pin he wants. Seven men to a pin, and not a man too much ! Seven generations, haply, to this world, To right it visibly a finger's breadth, And mend its rents a little. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. All service ranks the same with God. Pippa Passes. — R. B. January i6th. And God knows who sees us twain, Child at childish leisure, I am near as tired of pain As you seem of pleasure ; FROM BROWNING 21 Very soon too, by His grace Gently wrapt around me, Shall I show as calm a face, Shall I sleep as soundly ! Differing in this, that you Clasp your playthings sleeping, While my hand shall drop the few Given to my keeping ; Differing in this, that / Sleeping shall be colder, And in waking presently, Brighter to beholder ! Sleeping and Watching. — E. B. B. January lylh. When grief came upon grief, I was never tempted to ask '' How have I deserved this of God," as sufferers sometimes do : I always felt there must be cause enough . . . cor- ruption enough, needing purification . . . weakness enough, needing strengthening . . . nothing of the chastisement could come without cause and need. But in this different hour, when joy follows joy, and 22 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS God makes me happy, as you say, through you ... I cannot repress the . . . "How have I deserved this of Him? " — I know I have not — I know I do not. — From The Letters of Robert Broioning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. '< Apologize for atheism, not love ! For me, I do believe in love and God." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. January i8th. Thou, in the daily building of thy tower. Whether in fierce and sudden spasms of toil, Or through dim lulls of unapparent growth. Or when the general work 'mid good acclaim Climbed with the eye to cheer the architect. Didst ne'er engage in work for mere work's sake — Hadst ever in thy heart the luring hope Of some eventual rest a-top of it. The vulgar saw thy tower, thou sawest the sun. Cleon,—R. B. FBOM BROWNING 23 Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God ; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes, The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries, And daub their natural faces unaware More and more from the first similitude. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. January igth. Friend-making, everywhere friend-finding soul. Fit for the sunshine, so it followed him. A happy- tempered bringer of the best Out of the worst; who bears with what's past cure, And puts so good a face on't — wisely passive Where action's foolish, while he remedies In silence what the foolish rail against. A SouVs Tragedy.— R. B. How soon a smile of God can change the world ! How we are made for happiness — how work Grows play, adversity a winning fight 1 24 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS True, I have lost so many years : what then ? Many remain : God has been very good. In a Balcony, — R. B. January 20th. Is it so helpful to thee ? Canst thou take The mimic up, nor, for the true thing's sake. Put gently by such efforts at a beam ? Is the remainder of the way so long Thou need' St the little solace, thou the strong ? Watch out thy watch, let weak ones doze and dream ! Any Wife to Any Husband. — R. B. Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life With which we're tired, my heart and I. 3Iy Heart and I.— E. B. B. 'Tis only when they spring to heaven that angels Reveal themselves to you ; they sit all day Beside you, and lie down at night by you. Who care not for their presence, — muse or sleep — And all at once they leave you and you know them! Paracelsus. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 25 January 21st We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination, given us to bring down The choirs of singing angels overshone By God's clear glory, — down our earth to rake The dismal snows instead. Exaggeration. — E. B, B. How soon all worldly wrong would be re- paired ! I think how I should view the earth and skies And sea, when once again my brow was bared After thy healing, with such different eyes. O world, as God has made it ! All is beauty : And knowing this, is love, and love is duty. What further may be sought for or declared ? The Guardian- Angel. — R. B. January 22d. Witness, Dear and True, how little was I 'ware of — not your worth — That I knew, my heart assures me — Dut of what a shade on earth 26 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Would the passage from my presence of the tall white figure throw O'er the ways we walked together ! Some- what narrow, somewhat slow, Used to seem the ways, the walking : narrow ways are well to tread When there's moss beneath the footstep, honeysuckle overhead : Yes, I knew — but not with knowledge such as thrills me while I view Yonder precinct which henceforward holds and hides the Dear and True. Grant me (once again) assurance we shall each meet each some day, Walk — but with how bold a footstep ! on a way — but what a way ! — Worst were best, defeat were triumph, utter loss were utmost gain. Can it be, and must, and will it ? La Saisiaz. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 27 January 2}d. But I, not privileged to see a saint Of old when such walked earth with crown and palm, If I call "saint " what saints call something else — The saints must bear with me, impute the fault To a soul i' the bud, so starved by ignorance, Stinted of warmth, it will not blow this year Nor recognize the orb which Spring-flowers know. But if meanwhile some insect with a heart Worth floods of lazy music, spendthrift joy — Some firefly renounced Spring for my dwarfed cup, Crept close to me with lustre for the dark, Comfort against the cold, — what though excess Of comfort should miscall the creature — sun ? What did the sun to hinder while harsh hands Petal by petal, crude and colorless, Tore me? This one heart brought me all the Spring ! The Ring and the Book. — R. B. 28 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS January 24th. If God is not too great for little cares, Is any creature, because gone to God ? The human spirits feel the human way, And hate the unreasoning awe which waves them off From possible communion. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Now God be thanked for years enwrought With love which softens yet ! Now God be thanked for every thought Which is so tender it has caught Earth's guerdon of regret ! Earth saddens, never shall remove, Affections purely given ; And e'en that mortal grief shall prove The immortality of love And brighten it with Heaven ! The Pet-Name.— E. B. B. January 2^th. Tell me — is it your opinion that when the Apostle Paul saw the unspeakable things be- FROM BROWNING 29 ing snatched up into the third Heavens, "whether in the body or out of the body he could not tell," — is it your opinion that, all the week after, he worked particularly hard at the tent-making ? — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliz- abeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. "I but open my eyes, — and perfection, no more and no less, In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, and God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the clod. And thus looking within and around me, I ever renew, (With that stoop of the soul which in bend- ing, upraises it too) The submission of man's nothing-perfect to God's all-complete, As by each new obeisance in spirit, I climb to His feet. Saul.—R. B. 30 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS January 26th. Echoes die off, scarcely reverberate Forever, — why should ill keep echoing ill, And never let our ears have done with noise ? The Ring and the Book. — R. B. Truth is fair : should we forego it ? Can we sigh right for a wrong ? God Himself is the best Poet, And the Real is His song. Sing His Truth out fair and full, And secure His beautiful. What is true and just and honest, What is lovely, what is pure — All of praise that hath admonish 'd — All of virtue shall endure. — 2%e Dead P«n.— E. B. B. January 2yth. Men define a man, The creature who stands frontward to the stars. The creature who looks inward to himself, FROM BROWNING 31 The tool-wright, laughing creature. 'Tis enough : We'll say, instead, the inconsequent creature, man. For that's his specialty. What creature else Conceives the circle, and then walks the square ? Loves things proved bad, and leaves a thing proved good ? Alas, long-suffering and most patient God, Thou need'st be surelier God to bear with us Than even to have made us ! Sustain me, that with Thee I walk these waves, Resisting ! — breathe me upward, Thou in me Aspiring, who art the way, the truth, the life,— That no truth henceforth seem indifferent, No way to truth laborious. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 32 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS January 28th. So what is there to frown or smile at ? What is left for us, save, in growth Of soul, to rise up, far past both, From the gift looking to the giver, And from the cistern to the river, And from the finite to infinity. And from man's dust to God's divinity ? Take all in a word : the truth in God's breast Lies trace for trace upon ours impressed : Though He is so bright and we so dim, We are made in His image to witness Him. Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B. For all, love greatens and glorifies Till God's aglow, to the loving eyes, In what was mere earth before. James Lee's Wife.—K. B. January igth. Get leave to work. In this world, — 'tis the best you get at all For God, in cursing, gives us better gifts FROM BROWNING 33 Than men in benediction. God says, ^' Sweat For foreheads," men say ''crowns"; and so we are crowned, — Ay, gashed by some tormenting circle of steel Which snaps with a secret spring. Get work ; get work ; Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. When a man's busy, why, leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure : Faith, and at leisure once is he ? Straightway he wants to be busy. The Glove.— R. B. January }oth. He will live, nay, it pleaseth him to live So long as God please, and just how God please. He even seeketh not to please God more (Which meaneth, otherwise) than as God please. An Epistle,— K. B. 34 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS *' Let that old life seem mine — no more — With limitation as before, With darkness, hunger, toil, distress: Be all the earth a wilderness ! Only let me go on, go on, Still hoping ever and anon To reach one eve the Better Land ! " Chriatmas-Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B. January jist. *' God lent him and takes him," you sigh . . . — Nay, there let me break with your pain. God's generous in giving, say I, And the thing which He gives, I deny That He ever can take back again. He lends not, but gives to the end. As He loves to the end. If it seem That He draws back a gift, comprehend 'Tis to add to it rather . . . amend, And finish it up to your dream, — FROM BROWNING 35 So look up, friends ! You who indeed Have possessed in your house a sweet piece Of the heaven which men strive for, must need Be more earnest than others are, speed Where they loiter, persist where they cease. Only a Curl.—E. B. B. FEBRUARY. February ist In my own heart love had not been made wise To trace love's faint beginnings in mankind, To know even hate is but a mask of love's, To see a good in evil, and a hope In ill-success ; to sympathize, be proud Of their half-reasons, faint aspirings, dim Struggles for truth, their poorest fallacies, Their prejudice, and fears, and cares, and doubts Which all touch upon nobleness, despite Their error, all tend upwardly, though weak, Like plants in mines which never saw the sun. But dream of him, and guess where he may be, And do their best to climb and get to him. All this I knew not, and I failed. Paracelsus. — R. B. 40 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS February 2d. I am not proud — meek angels, ye invest New meeknesses to hear such utterance rest On mortal lips, — *'I am not proud" — not proud ! Albeit in my flesh God sent His Son, Albeit over Him my head is bowed As others bow before Him, still mine heart Bows lower than their knees. O centuries That roll, in vision, your futurities My future grave athwart, — Whose murmurs seem to reach me while I keep Watch o'er this sleep, — Say of me as the Heavenly said, — **Thou art The blessedest of women ! " — blessedest. Not holiest, not noblest — no high name. Whose height misplaced may pierce me like a shame, When I sit meek in heaven ! The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 41 February jd. O my God, How sick we must be, ere we make men just ! I think it frets the saints in heaven to see How many desolate creatures on the earth Have learned the simple dues of fellowship And social comfort, in a hospital ! Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Earth surely now may give her calm to whom she gave her anguish. O poets ! from a maniac's tongue was poured the deathless singing ! O Christians ! at your cross of hope, a hope- less hand was clinging ! O men ! this man in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling, Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died while ye were smiling ! Cowper^s Grave. — E. B. B. J 42 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS February 4th. In youth I looked to these very skies, And probing their immensities, I found God there, His visible power ; Yet felt in my heart, amid all its sense Of the power, an equal evidence That His love, there too, was the nobler dower. For the loving worm within its clod, Were diviner than a loveless god Amid his worlds, I will dare to say. Christmas- Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B. Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for ? Men and Women. — R. B. February ^th. All are not taken ! there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices to make soft the wind. But if it were not so — if I could find No love in all the world for comforting, FROM BROWNING 43 Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Where *< dust to dust" the love from life disjoined — And if before these sepulchres unmoving I stood alone, (as some forsaken lamb Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth) Crying *' Where are ye, O my loved and loving ? " . . I know a Voice would sound, ' ' Daughter, I am. Can I suffice for Heaven, and not for earth ? " Consolation. — E. B. B. February 6th. There is more in the soul than rises to the surface and meets the eye ; whatever does that, is for this world's immediate uses ; and were this world all, all in us would be pro- ducible and available for use, as it is with the body now — but with the soul, what is to be developed afterward is the main thing, and instinctively asserts its rights. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brother. 44 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS . . . souls shall rise in their degree ; Butterflies may dread extinction, — you'll not die, it cannot be. A Toccata of GaluppVa. — R. B. February yth. And from thy soul, which fronts the future so, With unabashed and unabated gaze, Teach me to hope for, what the Angels know, When they smile clear as thou dost. Down God's ways. With just alighted feet between the snow And snowdrops, where a little lamb may gaze, Thou hast no fear, my lamb, about the road. Albeit in our vainglory we assume That, less than we have, thou hast learnt of God. Howe'er the uneasy world is vexed and wroth, Young children, lifted high on parent souls, FROM BROWNING 45 Look round them with a smile upon the mouth, And take for music every bell that tolls. Who said we should be better if like these ? And we sit murmuring for the future though Posterity is smiling on our knees, Convicting us of folly ? Let us go — We will trust God. Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. February 8th. You learned — to submit is a mortal's duty. — When I say '^ you " 'tis the common soul, The collective, I mean : the race of Man That receives life in parts to live in a whole, And grow here according to God's clear plan. 'Tis a lifelong toil till our lump be leaven — The better ? What's come to perfection per- ishes. Things learned on earth, we shall practice in heaven : Works done least rapidly, Art most cherishes. Thyself shalt afford the example, Giotto ! 46 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Thy one work, not to decrease or diminish, Done at a stroke, was just (was it not) ? Thy great Campanile is still to finish. Old Pictures in Florence. — K. B. February gth. So oft the doing of God's will Our foolish wills undoeth ! And yet what idle dream breaks ill, Which morning light subdueth ; And who would murmur or misdoubt, When God's great sunrise finds him out ? An Island.— E. B. B. When graver, meeker thoughts are given, And I have learnt to lift my face, Reminded how earth's greenest place The color draws from heaven, — It something saith for earthly pain, But more for heavenly promise free, That I who was, would shrink to be That happy child again. The Deserted Garden.-^E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 47 February loth. We of these latter days, with greater mind Than our forerunners, since more composite, Look not so great, beside their simple way, To a judge who only sees one way at once, One mind-point and no other at a time, — Compares the small part of a man of us AVith some whole man of the heroic age. Great in his way, not ours, nor meant for ours. And ours is greater, had we skill to know. Cleon—K. B. We do not serve the dead — the past is past ! God hves, and lifts His glorious mornings up Before the eyes of men, awake at last. Casa Guidi Windoivs. — E. B. B. February nth. For I, a man, with men am linked. And not a brute with brutes ; no gain That I experience, must remain Unshared : but should my best endeavor To share it, fail — subsisteth ever 48 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS God's care above, and I exult, That God, by God's own ways occult, May — doth, I will believe — bring back All wanderers to a single track. Christmas Eve. — R. B. If he strained too wide, It was not to take honor but give help ; The gesture was heroic. If his hand Accomplished nothing . . . (well, it is not proved) That empty hand thrown impotently out Were sooner caught, I think, by One in heaven Than many a hand that reaped a harvest in. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. February 12th. If we whose virtue is so weak, should have a will so strong. And stand blind on the rocks, to choose the right path from the wrong ? FROM BROWNING 49 To choose perhaps a love-lit hearth, instead of love and Heaven, — A single rose, for a rose-tree, which beareth seven times seven ? A rose that droppeth from the hand, that fadeth in the breast, Until, in grieving for the worst, we learn what is the best ! The Lay of the Brown Rosary. — E. B. B. I wish indeed <* God's kingdom come " — The day when I shall see appear His bidding, as my duty, clear From doubt ! Christmas-Eve and Easter- Day. — R. B. February ijth. Youth is the time — our youth, To think and to decide on a great course : Age with its action follows ; but 'tis dreary To have to alter one's whole life in age — The time past, the strength gone ! Strafford.— R. B. 50 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Pause here upon this strip of time Allotted you out of eternity ! King Victor and King Charles. — R. B. God, set our feet low and our forehead high, And show us how a man is made to walk ! Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. February 14th. Whoever lives true life, will love true love. Aurora Leigh. — E, B. B. Whosoever says To a loyal woman * ' Love and work with me," Will get fair answers if the work and love Being good themselves, are good for her — the best She was born for. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. God be thanked, the meanest of His creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with. One to show a woman when he loves her ! One Word More.—K. B. FROM BROWNING 51 February i^th. And was I so far wrong In hope and in illusion, when I took The woman to be nobler than the man, Yourself the noblest woman, — in the use And comprehension of what love is, — love, That generates the likeness of itself Through all heroic duties ? so far wrong. In saying bluntly, venturing truth on love, ** Come, human creature, love and work with me," Instead of " Lady, thou art wondrous fair, . . . Turn round and love me, or I die of love?" Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. A simple woman who believes in love And owns the right of love because she loves, And hearing she's beloved, is satisfied With what contents God. Ibid, 52 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS February i6th. All at once I looked up with terror. He was there. He Himself with His human air, On the narrow pathway, just before. I saw the back of Him, no more — No face : only the sight Of a sweepy garment, vast and white, With a hem that I could recognize. I felt no terror, no surprise ; . . . '< I remember, He did say Doubtless, that, to this world's end, Where two or three should meet and pray. He would be in the midst, their friend ; Certainly He was there with them ! " And my pulses leaped for joy Of the golden thought without alloy, That I saw His very vesture's hem. Christmas-Eve and Easter- Day. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 53 February lyth. •'Soul of mine, hadst thou caught and held By the hem of the vesture ! " And I caught At the flying robe, and unrepelled Was lapped again in its folds full-fraught With warmth and wonder and delight, God's mercy being infinite. So He said, so it befalls. God Who registers the cup Of mere cold water, for His sake To a disciple rendered up, Disdains not His own thirst to slake At the poorest love was ever offered : And because my heart I proffered. With true love trembling at the brim, He suffers me to follow Him Forever, my own way." Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B. 54 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS February i8th. ''There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow ; " And nature oft, the cry of faith. In bitter need will borrow : Eyes which the preacher could not school. By wayside graves are raised ; And lips say, "God be pitiful," Who ne'er said " God be praised." Be pitiful, O God ! And soon all vision waxeth dull — Men whisper, "He is dying : " We cry no more, " Be pitiful ! " We have no strength for crying : No strength, no need ! Then, Soul of mine, Look up and triumph rather — Lo ! in the depths of God's Divine, The Son adjures the Father — Be pitiful, O God ! The Cry of the Human.— 'E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 55 February ipth. ** 'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do ! See the King — I would help him but cannot, the wishes fall through. Could I wrestle to raise him from sorrow, grow poor to enrich, To fill up his life, starve my own out, I would — knowing which, I know that my service is perfect." Saul.--R. B. "What, my soul? see thus far and no far- ther ? when doors great and small, Nine-and-ninety flew ope at our touch, should the hundredth appall ? In the least things have faith, yet distrust in the greatest of all ? Do I find love so full in my nature, God's ultimate gift, That I doubt His own love can compete with it ? Here, the parts shift ? Here, the creature surpass the Creator, — the end, what Began ? 56 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Would I fain in my impotent yearning do all for this man, And dare doubt He alone shall not help him, Who yet alone can ? ' ' Saul.—R. B. February 20th. As the birds sang in the branches, Sing God's patience through my soul ! Hector in the Garden. — E. B. B. God gives patience. Love learns strength. And Faith remembers promise ; And Hope itself can smile at length On other hopes gone from us. A Child's Grave at Florence.— E. B. B. Live and love, — Doing both nobly, because lowlily ; Live and work, strongly, — because patiently ! . With constant prayers Fasten your souls so high, that constantly The smile of your heroic cheer may float Above all floods of earthly agonies, Purification being the joy of pain ! A Drama of Exile, — E. B. B. FBOM BROWNING 57 February 21st. "Weakness never needs be falseness : truth is truth in each degree — Thunderpealed by God to Nature, whis- pered by my soul to me. Nay, the weakness turns to strength and tri- umphs in a truth beyond : Mine is but man's truest answer — how were it did God respond?" La Saisiaz. — R. B. ' ' I love love: truth's no cleaner thing than love. . What, love and /ie / Nay — go to the opera ! your love's curable." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Truth is the strong thing. Let man's life be true ! . aspire to live as these In harmony with truth, ourselves being true ! In a Balcony. — R. B, February 22d. Some natures catch no plagues. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 58 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS We that had loved him so, followed him, honored him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye. Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, Made him our pattern to live and to die ! The Lost Leader. — R. B, Still bettered more, the more remembered. The Ring and the Book.—R. B. All actual heroes are essential men. And all men possible heroes. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Februarv 2^d. Heart and will are great things, . . . but after all we carry a barrowful of clay about with us, and we must carry it a little care- fully if we mean to keep to the path and not run zigzag into the border of the garden. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. FROM BROWNING 59 Souls were dangerous things to carry straight Through all the spilt saltpetre of the world. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one's own. A Light Woman. — R. B. February 24th. " There is a way — 'Tis hard for flesh to tread therein, imbued With frailty — hopeless, if indulgence first Have ripened inborn germs of sin to strength : Wilt thou adventure, for My sake and man's, Apart from all reward?" And last it breathed — '' Be happy, my good soldier, I am by thee Be sure, even to the end ! " I answered not, Knowing Him. As He spoke, I was endued With comprehension and a steadfast will ; And when He ceased, my brow was sealed His own. 60 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS If there took place no special change in me, How comes it all things wore a different hue Thenceforward ? Faracelans. — R. B. February 2^th. In the beginning when God called all good, Even then was evil near us, it is writ. But we indeed who call things good and fair, The evil is upon us while we speak : Deliver us from evil, let us pray. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. There began a yelp here, a bark there, — Misunderstanding creatures that were wroth And vexed themselves and us till we retired. The hovel is life : no matter what dogs bit Or cats scratched in the hovel I break from, All outside is lone field, moon and such peace — Flowing in, filling up as with a sea Whereon comes Someone, walks fast on the white, Jesus Christ's self. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 61 February 26th. Let us not always say *' Spite of this flesh to-day I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!" As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry *' All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul ! " Therefore I summon age To grant youth's heritage. Life's struggle having so far reached its term : Thence shall I pass, approved A man, for aye removed From the developed brute ; a God though in the germ. RaUi Ben Ezra.—R. B. February 2yth. There's a world of capability For joy, spread round about us, meant for us, Inviting us. Cleon.—^. B. BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Capacity for joy Admits temptation. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Remember that as you owe your unscathed joy to God, you should pay it back to His world. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. Maker and High Priest, I ask Thee not my joys to multiply, — Only make me worthier of the least. Adequacy. — E. B. B. February 28th. God, God ! With a child's voice I cry Weak, sad, confidingly, — God, God ! Thou knowest eyelids raised not always up Unto Thy love, (as none of ours are,) droop As ours, o'er many a tear ! FROM BROWNING 63 Thou knowest, though Thy universe is broad, Two Uttle tears suffice to cover all. Thou knowest, — Thou . The SoiiVs Travelling.— E. B. B. What we call Life is a condition of the soul, and the soul must improve in happiness and wisdom, except by its own fault. These tears in our eyes, these faintings of the flesh, will not hinder such improvement. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. MARCH. March ist Earth is a wintry clod ; But spring-wind, like a dancing psal tress, passes Over its breast to waken it ; rare verdure Buds tenderly upon rough banks, between The withered tree-roots and the cracks of frost, Like a smile striving with a wrinkled face ; The grass grows bright, the boughs are swoln with blooms, . . . Above, birds fly in merry flocks — the lark Soars up and up, shivering for very joy ; Afar the ocean sleeps ; white fishing-gulls Flit where the sand is purple with its tribe Of nested limpets ; savage creatures seek Their loves in wood and plain ; and God re- news His ancient rapture ! Thus He dwells in all, 68 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS From life's minute beginnings, up at last To man — the consummation of this scheme Of being, the completion of this sphere Of life. Paracelsus. — R. B. March 2d. Here is Spring The sun shines as he shone at Adam's fall, The earth requires that warmth reach every- where : AVhy must your patch of snow be saved, for- sooth, Because you rather fancy snow than flowers ? The Ring and the Book. — R. B. Every child will love the year's first flower, (Not certainly the fairest of the year, But, in which, the complete year seems to blow) The poor sad snowdrop, — growing between drifts, Mysterious medium 'twixt the plant and frost, FROM BROWNING So faint with winter while so quick with spring, So doubtful if to thaw itself away With that snow near it. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. March ^d. I charge thee, do not flatter me Through pity, with false words ! for, in my mind. Deceiving works more shame than torturing doth. Frometheus Bound. — E. B. B. Be calm. And smooth thy words from passion. Knowest thou not . . . That where the tongue wags, ruin never lags ? Ibid. Look up Godward ! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul ! Hold, in high poetic duty. Truest truth the fairest beauty. The Dead Pan.— E. B. B. 70 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS March 4th. It takes a soul To move a body : it takes a high souled man To move the masses . . . even to a cleaner stye: It takes the ideal, to blow a hair-breadth's off The dust of the actual. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. So others shall Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand, From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave cheer, And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower, with a brimming cup, may stand And share its dewdrop with another near. Work.—^. B. B. March ^th. Oh, what a dawn of day ! How the March sun feels like May 1 FROM BROWNING 71 All is blue again After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. A Lovers^ Quarrel — R. B. When night overtakes me, down I lie, Sleep, dream a little, and get done with it, The sooner the better, to begin afresh. What's midnight doubt before the dayspring's faith? Bishop Blougrara's Apology. — R. B. We try and cull Briers, thistles, from our private plot, To mar God's ground where thorns are not ! Easter- Day. —R. B. March 6th. Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, born March 6th, i8o6. The poet hath the child's sight in his breast. And sees all new. What oftenest he has viewed, He views with the first glory. Fair and good Pall never on him, at the fairest, best, 72 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS But stand before him holy and undressed In week-day false conventions, such as would Drag other men down from the altitude Of primal types, too early dispossessed. Why, God would tire of all His heaven as soon As thou, O godlike, childlike poet, didst Of daily and nightly sights of sun and moon ! And therefore hath He set thee in the midst, Where men may hear thy wonder's ceaseless tune, And praise His world forever as thou bidst. The Foet—E. B. B. March yth. I classed, appraising once. Earth's lamentable sounds ; the well-a-day, The jarring yea and nay. The fall of kisses on unanswering clay. The sobbed farewell, the welcome mourn- fuller '— But all did leaven the air With a less bitter leaven of sure despair, Than these words — ** I loved once." FROM BROWNINO 73 Say never, ye loved once / God is too near above, the grave, beneath, And all our moments breathe Too quick in mysteries of life and death. For such a word. The eternities avenge Affections light of range — There comes no change to justify that change, Whatever comes — loved once / Loved Once. — E. B. B. March 8th. A shaft from the devil's bow Pierced to our ingle-glow, And the friends were friend and foe ! Not from the heart beneath — 'Twas a bubble born of breath, Neither sneer nor vaunt, Nor reproach nor taunt. See a word, how it severeth ! Oh, power of life and death In the tongue, as the Preacher saith ! A Lovers^ Quarrel. — R. B. 74 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Evil or good may be better or worse In the human heart, but the mixture of each Is a marvel and a curse. Gold Hair : A Story of Pornic. — R. B. March gth. Robert Barrett Browning, only child of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, born March 9th, 1849. And love was here As instant : in the pretty baby mouth, Shut close as if for dreaming that it sucked ; The little naked feet drawn up the way Of nestled birdlings ; everything so soft And tender, — to the tiny holdfast hands. Which, closing on the finger into sleep, Had kept the mould of 't. While we stood there dumb, . . . The light upon his eyelids pricked them wide, And, staring out at us with all their blue, As half perplexed between the angel -hood He had been away to visit in his sleep. FROM BROWNING 75 And our most mortal presence, — gradually He saw his mother's face, accepting it In change for heaven itself, with such a smile As might have well been learnt there. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. March loth. Women know The way to rear up children, (to be just,) They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby shoes. And stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words : Which things are corals to cut life upon. Although such trifles : children learn by such Love's holy earnest in a pretty play, And get not over early solemnized. But seeing, as in a rosebush. Love's Divine, Which burns and hurts not, — not a single bloom, — Become aware and unafraid of Love. Such good do mothers. Fathers love as well, c 76 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS — Mine did, I know, — but still with heavier brains, And wills more consciously responsible, And not as wisely, since less foolishly : So mothers have God's Hcense to be missed. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. March nth. Angels are less tender-wise Than God and mothers. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. You've the right to laugh, Since God Himself is for you, and a child ! Ibid. Shows her what's sweetest in womanly fate — Sunshine from Heaven, and the eyes of a child. Nature's Remorses. — E. B. B. May He of the manger stand near And love thee ! An infant He came To His own who rejected Him here But the Magi brought gifts all the same. Void in Law. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 77 March 12th. I see my way as birds their trackless way — I shall arrive ! What time, what circuit first, I ask not : but unless God sends His hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet, or stifling snow. In some time — His good time — I shall arrive : He guides me and the bird. In His good time ! Paracelsus. — R. B. And the httle birds sang east, and the little birds sang west. And but little thought was theirs, of the si- lent, antique years, In the building of their nest. Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west, And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness, — Round our restlessness. His rest. Rhyme of the Duchess 3Iay. — E. B. B. 78 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS March ijth. As life wanes, all its cares, and strife, and toil, Seem strangely valueless, while the old trees Which grew by our youth's home — the wav- ing mass Of climbing plants, heavy with bloom and dew — The morning swallows with their songs like words, — All these seem clear and only worth our thoughts. Pauline. — R- B. The happy children come to us, And look up in our faces : They ask us — Was it thus and thus. When we were in their places? We cannot speak : — we see anew The hills we used to live in ; And feel our mother's smile press through The kisses she is giving. 2'he Cry of the Human, — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 79 March 14th. I have taken quite to despise book-knowl- edge and its effect on the mind, — I mean when people live by it as most readers by pro- fession do, . . . cloistering their souls under these roofs made with heads, when they might be under the sky. Such people grow dark and narrow and low, with all their pains. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Hax- per & Brothers. Sublimest danger, over which none weeps. When any young wayfaring soul goes forth Alone, unconscious of the perilous road. The day-sun dazzling in his hmpid eyes, To thrust his own way, he an alien, through The world of books. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B, Good aims not always make good books ; Well-tempered spades turn up ill-smelling soils. 80 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS March i^th. So when Spring comes, And sunshine comes again like an old smile, And the fresh waters, and awakened birds, And budding woods await us — I shall be Prepared, and we will go and think again. And all old loves shall come to us — but changed As some sweet thought which harsh words veiled before ; Feeling God loves us, and that all that errs. Is a strange dream which death will dissipate. Pauline. — R. B. Reap this life's success or failure ! Soon shall things be unperplexed And the right and wrong, now tangled, lie unravelled in the next. La Saisiaz. — R. B. March i6th. It's wiser being good than bad ; It's safer being meek than fierce; It's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce FROM BROWNING 81 The thickest cloud earth ever stretched ; That, after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be stretched ; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst. Apparent Failure. — R. B. If we could wait ! The only fault's with time ; All men become good creatures : but so slow ! Luria. — R. B. March lyth. In this world, who can do a thing, will not ; And who would do it, cannot, I perceive : Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — And thus wx half-men struggle. At the end, God, I conclude, compensates. Andrea Del Sarto. — R. B. What we best conceive, we fail to speak. Wait, soul, until thy ashen garments fall ! And then resume thy broken strains, and seek Fit peroration. Insufficiency. — E. B. B. 82 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS " Hearken, dear; There's too much abstract willing, purposing, In this poor world." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. March i8th. A pure home To live in, a pure heart to lean against, A pure good mother's name and memory To hope by, when the world grows thick and bad. And he feels out for virtue. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. I thought a child was given to sanctify A woman, — set her in the sight of all The clear-eyed heavens, a chosen minister To do their business and lead spirits up The difficult blue heights. A woman lives, Not bettered, quickened toward the truth and good Through being a mother? . . . then she's none ! although She damps her baby's cheeks by kissing them. Ihid. FROM BROWNING March ipth. A beggar asked an alms One day at an abbey-door, Said Luther ; but, seized with qualms, The abbot replied, ** We're poor ! " Then the beggar, '' See your sins ! Of old, unless I err. Ye had brothers for inmates, twins. Date and Dabitur. " While Date was in good case Dabitur flourished too : For Dabitur' s lenten face No wonder if Date rue. " Would you retrieve the one ? Try and make plump the other ! When Date's penance is done, Dabitur helps his brother." The Twins: '^ Give** and ^' It-shall-be-givenunto- yoM."— R. B. 84 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS March 20th. It is in truth An easy thing to stand aloof from pain, And lavish exhortation and advice On one vexed sorely by it. Prometheus Bound. — E. B. B. Being observed, When observation is not sympathy, Is just being tortured. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Do you hear the children weeping and dis- proving, O my brothers, what ye preach ? For God's possible is taught by His world's loving, — And the children doubt of each. The Cry of the Children.— E. B. B. March 21st You fool, for all Your lore ! Who made things plain in vain ? What was the sea for ? What, the grey Sad Church, that solitary day, FROM BROWNING 85 Crosses and graves and swallows' call ? Was there naught better than to enjoy ? No feat which, done, would make time break, And let us pent-up creatures through Into eternity, our due ? No forcing earth teach heaven's employ ? Di8 Aliter Visun. — R. B. 'Twixt the dying atheist's negative And God's face . . . waiting, after all. First News from Villa-Franca. — E. B. B. March 22d. "There is none good sav^e God," said Jesus Christ. If He once, in the first creation-week, Called creatures good, — forever afterward, The devil only has done it, and his heirs. The word's grown dangerous. In the middle age, I think they called malignant fays and imps Good people. A good neighbor, even in this. Is fatal sometimes, — cuts your morning up 86 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS To mincemeat of the very smallest talk, Then helps to sugar her bohea at night With your reputation. . . . And we all have known Good critics who have stamped out poet's hopes ; Good statesmen who pulled ruin on the state ; Good patriots who for a theory risked a cause ; Good kings who disembowelled for a tax ; Good popes who brought all good to jeopardy ; Good Christians who sat still in easy-chairs And damned the general world for standing up,— Now may the good God pardon all good men ! Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. March 2^d. May spilt milk be put back within the bowl — The thing done, undone ? . . . Since milk, though spilt and spoilt, does marble good, Better we down on knees and scrub the floor, FROM BROWNING 87 Than sigh, ''the waste would make a sylla- bub ! " Help us so turn disaster to account. The Ring and the Book.—E. B. B. . . . how to fill a breach With olive branches ; how to quench a lie With truth, and smite a foe upon the cheek With Christ's most conquering kiss ! Casa Guidi Windows.^-E. B. B. March 24th. The works of v/omen are symbolical. We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight, Producing what ? A pair of slippers, sir. To put on when you're weary — or a stool To tumble over and vex you . . . "curse that stool ! " Or else at best, a cushion, where you lean And sleep, and dream of something we are not, But would be for your sake. Alas, alas ! This hurts most, this . . . that, after all, we are paid The worth of our work, perhaps. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 88 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Most illogical Irrational nature of our womanhood, That blushes one way, feels another way. And prays, perhaps, another ! lUd. March 2^th. In the set noon of time, shall one from Heaven, An angel fresh from looking upon God, Descend upon a woman, blessing her With perfect benediction of pure love, For all the world in all its elements ; For all the creatures of earth, air, and sea ; For all men in the body and in the soul. Unto all ends of glory and sanctity. Eve. O pale, pathetic Christ, — I worship Thee! I thank Thee for that woman ! A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. My flesh ! my Lord ! — what name? I do not know A name that seemeth not too high or low, FROM BROWNING 89 Too far from me or Heaven. My Jesus, that is best ! that word being given By the majestic angel. The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus. — E. B. B. March 26th. Who's the martyred man ? Let him bear one stroke more, for be sure he can ! He that strove thus evil's lump to leaven, Let him give his blood at last and get his heaven ! All or nothing, stake it ! Trusts he God or no? Thus far and no farther? farther? be it so! Before.— R. B. Was it not great ? did he not throw on God, (He loves the burthen) — God's task to make the heavenly period Perfect the earthen ? 90 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS He ventured neck or nothing — heaven's success Found, or earth's failure : **Wilt thou trust death or not?" He an- swered '' Yes ! Hence with hfe's pale lure ! " A Grammarian^ s Funeral — R. B. March 2yth. All passive obedience and implicit submis- sion of will and intellect is by far too easy, if well considered, to be the course prescribed by God to Man in this life of probation, — for they evade probation altogether, though foolish people think otherwise. Chop off )'our legs, you will never go astray; stifle your reason altogether and you will find it difficult to reason ill. '' It is hard to make these sacrifices," — not so hard as to lose the reward or incur the penalty of an Eternity to come; ^' hard to effect them, then, and go through with them " — not hard, when the leg is to be cut off, that it is rather harder to FROM BROWNING 91 keep it quiet on a stool, I know very well. The partial indulgence, the proper exercise of one's faculties, there is the difficulty and problem for solution. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. March 28th. *' Renounce the world ! " — Ah were it done By merely cutting one by one Your limbs off, with your wise head last, How easy Avere it ! how soon past, If once in the believing mood ! 'Such is man's usual gratitude. Such thanks to God do we return. For not exacting that we spurn A single gift of life, forego One real gain, — only taste them so With gravity and temperance, That those mild virtues may enhance Such pleasures, rather than abstract — Last spice of which, will be the fact 92 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Of love discerned in every gift ; . . . God's dispensation's merciful." Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B. March 29th. Providence . . . might have made the laws of Religion as indubitable as those of vitality, and revealed the articles of belief as certainly as that condition, for instance, by which we breathe so many times in a minute to support life. But there is no reward pro- posed for the feat of breathing, and a great one for that of believing — consequently there must go a great deal more of voluntary effort to this latter than is implied in the getting absolutely rid of it at once, by adopting the direction of an infallible church, or private judgment of another — for all our life is some form of religion, and all our action some be- lief, and there is but one law, however modi- fied, for the greater and the less. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliz- abeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. FB03I BROWNING 93 March joth. Music, (which is earnest of a heaven, Seeing we know emotions strange by it, Not else to be revealed,) is as a voice, A low voice calUng Fancy, as a friend, To the green woods in the gay summer time. And she fills all the way with dancing shapes. Which have made painters pale; and they go on While stars look at them, and winds call to them. As they leave life's path for the twilight world. Where the dead gather. Pauline. — R. B. Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear. Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe ; But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear ; The rest may reason and welcome : 'tis we musicians know. Aht Vogler.~R. B. 94 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS March jist Ador. Do we love not ? Zerah. Yea, But not as man shall ! not with life for death, . . . Nor yet with speechless memories of what Earth's winters were, enverduring the green Of every heavenly palm Whose windless, shadeless calm Moves only at the breath of the Unseen. Oh, not with this blood on us — and this face, — Still, haply pale with sorrow that it bore In our behalf, and tender evermore With nature all our own, upon us gazing ! Nor yet with these forgiving hands upraising Their unreproachful wounds, alone to bless ! Ador. Love Him more, O man, Than sinless seraphs can. TJie Seraphim.— E. B. B. APRIL. April I St. Winter Crept aged from the earth, and Spring's first breath Blew soft from the moist hills — the black- thorn boughs, So dark in the bare wood, when glistening In the sunshine, were white with coming buds, Like the bright side of a sorrow — and the banks Had violets opening from sleep like eyes — Pauline.— E. B. B. " O God's earth ! " he saith, " the sign From the Father-soul to mine Of all beauteous mysteries. Of all perfect images, Which, divine in His divine, BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS In my human only are Very excellent and fair : — . . . Earth, I praise thee ! " Earth and Her Praisers. — E. B. B. /ipril 2d. Then, at last, I, wrapping round me your humanity, Which being sustained, shall neither break nor burn Beneath the fire of Godhead, will tread earth. And ransom you and it, and set strong peace Betwixt you and its creatures. With my pangs I will confront your sins : and since those sins Have sunken to all nature's heart from yours. The tears of my clean soul shall follow them And set a holy passion to work clear Absolute consecration. In my brow Of kingly whiteness, shall be crowned anew Your discrowned human nature. Look on me I FEOM BROWNING As I shall be uplifted on a cross In darkness of eclipse and anguish dread, So shall I lift up in my pierced hands, Not into dark, but light — not unto death, But life, beyond the reach of guilt and grief. The whole creation. Henceforth in my name Take courage, O thou woman, — man, take hope! A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. April jd. Thy love Shall chant itself its own beatitudes After its own Hfe- working. A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips, shall make thee glad ; A poor man served by thee, shall make thee rich ; A sick man helped by thee, shall make thee strong ; Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense Of service which thou renderest. A Drama of Exile. — E. B. B. Man calls thee, God requites thee. Luria. — R. B. t..fC. 100 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS It is very good for strength To know that some one needs you to be strong. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. April 4th. You are Christians; somehow, no one ever plucked A rag, even, from the body of the Lord, To wear and mock with, but despite himself, He looked the greater and was the better. The Ring and the Booh. — R. B. 'Twas a thief said the last kind word to Christ : Christ took the kindness and forgave the theft. Ibid. We worship in Thy sorrow, Saviour, Christ. A Drama of Exile.— 'E^. B. B. In His face Is light, but in His shadow healing too. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. FEOM BROWNING 101 April ^th. That martyr-gash Fell on Thee coming to take Thine own, And we gave the Cross, when we owed the throne. Holy-Cross Day. — R. B. So, the All-Great were the All-Loving too — So, through the thunder comes a human voice Saying, "O heart I made, a heart beats here ! Face, my hands fashioned, see it in Myself ! Thou hast no power nor may'st conceive of Mine ; But love I gave thee, with Myself to love, And thou must love Me who have died for thee." An Epistle of Karshish. — R. B. April 6th. God, above the starlight, God, above the patience, Shall at last present ye 102 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Guerdons worth the cost. Patiently enduring, Painfully surrounded, . . . Hope the uttermost. A Drama of Exile.— 'E. B. B. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time ; I press God's lamp Close to my breast — its splendor, soon or late, Will pierce the gloom : I shall emerge one day ! Paracelsus. — R. B. y4pril yth. *^He who did most, shall bear most; the strongest shall stand the most weak. 'Tis the weakness in strength, that I cry for ! my flesh, that I seek. In the Godhead ! I seek and I find it. O Saul, it shall be A Face like my face that receives thee; a Man like to me, FBOM BROWNING 103 Thou shalt love and be loved by, forever ; a Hand like this hand Shall throw open the gates of new life to thee ! See the Christ stand ! ' ' Saul—K. B. Henceforth no certainty more plain Than this mere surmise that after body dies soul lives again. Two, the only facts acknowledged late, are now increased to three — God is, and the soul is, and, as certain, after death shall be. La Saiaiaz. — R. B. April 8th. Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not More grief than ye can weep for. That is well — That is light grieving ! lighter, none befell. Since Adam forfeited the primal lot. Tears ! what are tears ? The babe weeps in its cot, 104 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS The mother singing ; at her marriage-bell The bride weeps ; and before the oracle Of high-faned hills, the poet has forgot Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace, Ye who weep only ! If, as some have done, Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place And touch but tombs, — look up ! Those tears will run Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, And leave the vision clear for stars and sun. 7fears.— E. B. B. April gth. Rise, woman, rise. To thy peculiar and best altitudes Of doing good and of enduring ill. Of comforting for ill, and teaching good, And reconciling all that ill and good Unto the patience of a constant hope, — Rise with thy daughters ! If sin come by thee, And by sin, death, — the ransom-righteous- ness, FROM BROWNING 105 The heavenly life and compensative rest Shall come by means of thee. If woe by thee Had issued to the world, thou shalt go forth An angel of the woe thou didst achieve ; Be satisfied ; Something thou hast to bear through woman- hood — Peculiar suffering answering to the sin ; Some pang paid down for each new human life; Some weariness in guarding such a life — Some coldness from the guarded. . . . A Drama of Exile. — E. B. B. April loth. Shall we, then, who have issued from the dust. And there return — shall we, who toil for dust. And wrap our winnings in this dusty life. Say, '' No more tears, Lord God ! The measure runneth o'er ! " 106 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Oh, holder of the balance, laughest Thou ? Nay, Lord ! Be gentler to our foolishness, For His sake who assumed our dust and turns On Thee pathetic eyes Still moistened with our tears ! And teach us, O our Father, while we weep. To look in patience upon earth and learn. The Measure.—^. B. B. April iith. Jesus, Victim, comprehending Love's divine self-abnegation, Cleanse my love in self-spending, And absorb the poor libation ! Wind my thread of life up higher, Up, through angels' hands of fire ! I aspire while I expire ! Bertha in the Lane. — E. B. B. From the low earth round you. Reach the heights above you ; From the stripes that wound you. FROM BROWNING 107 Seek the loves that love you ! God's divinest burneth plain. A Drmna of Exile.— E. B. B. y4prtl 1 2th. Call them back, Back to Thee in continuous aspiration ! For here, O Lord, For here they vainly travel, — vainly pass From the city pavement to untrodden sward, Where the lark finds her deep nest in the grass Cold with the earth's last dew. Yea, very vain The greatest speed of all the souls of men, Unless they travel upward to the throne Where sittest Thou, the satisfying One, With help for sins and holy perfectings For all requirements — while the archangel, raising Unto Thy face his full estatic gazing, Forgets the rush and rapture of his wings. The SouVs Travelling.— E. B. B. 108 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Our God, who is the enemy of none, But only of their sin. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. April ijth. Weep ? Weep blood, All women, all men ! He sweated it, I/e — The Seraphim.^E. B. B. ** Forsake the Christ thou sawest transfigured, Him Who trod the sea and brought the dead to hfe? What should wring this from thee? " ye laugh and ask. What wrung it? Even a torchlight and a noise, The sudden Roman faces, violent hands. And fear of what the Jews might do ! Just that, And it is written, " I forsook and fled." There was my trial, and it ended thus. A Death in the Desert. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 109 April 14th. Because my portion was assigned Wholesome and bitter — Thou art kind And I am blessed to my mind. In my large joy of sight and touch Beyond what others count for such, I am content to suffer much. Let the bloom Of Life grow over, undenied, This Bridge of Death, which is not wide — I shall soon be at the other side. Glory to God — to God ! he saith — Knowledge by suffering endureth ; And Life is perfected by Death ! A Vision of Poets.— E. B. B. April i^th. Does the precept run " Believe in good, In justice, truth, now understood For the first time? " — or, '' Believe in Me, Who lived and died, yet essentially 108 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Our God, who is the enemy of none, But only of their sin. A Drama of Exile.— E. B, B. April ijth. Weep ? Weep blood, All women, all men ! He sweated it, He — The Seraphim. — E. B. B. " Forsake the Christ thou sawest transfigured. Him Who trod the sea and brought the dead to hfe? What should wring this from thee? " ye laugh and ask. What wrung it? Even a torchlight and a noise, The sudden Roman faces, violent hands. And fear of what the Jews might do ! Just that. And it is written, " I forsook and fled." There was my trial, and it ended thus. A Death in the Desert. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 109 April 14th. Because my portion was assigned Wholesome and bitter — Thou art kind And I am blessed to my mind. In my large joy of sight and touch Beyond what others count for such, I am content to suffer much. Let the bloom Of Life grow over, un denied, This Bridge of Death, which is not wide — I shall soon be at the other side. Glory to God— to God ! he saith — Knowledge by suffering endureth ; And Life is perfected by Death ! A Vision of Poets.— E. B. B. April i^th. Does the precept run " Believe in good. In justice, truth, now understood For the first time? " — or, *' Believe in Me, Who lived and died, yet essentially 112 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS . Just that hope, however scant, Makes the actual hfe worth leading ; take the hope therein away. All we have to do is surely not endure an- other day. This life has its hopes for this life, hopes that promise joy : life done — Out of all the hopes, how many had com- plete fulfillment ? none. ''But the soul is not the body: " and the breath is not the flute. La Saisiaz. — R. B. y4pril i8th. I cling with my mind To the same, same self, same love, same God : ay, what was, shall be. Therefore to whom turn I but to Thee, the ineffable Name ? Builder and Maker, Thou, of houses not made with hands ! What, have fear of change from Thee who art ever the same ? FROM BROWNING 113 Doubt that Thy power can fill the heart that Thy power expands ? There shall never be one lost good ! What was, shall live as before, The evil is null, is nought, is silence im- plying sound ; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more ; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round. AU Vogler.—R. B. Thou waitedst age : . wait death nor be afraid ! Babbi Ben Ezra.—R. B. y^pril igth. O we live, O we live — And this life that we conceive Is a clear thing and a fair. Which we set in crystal air That its beauty may be plain : 114 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS With a breathing and a flooding Of the heaven -life on the whole, While we hear the forests budding To the music of the soul — A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. Wishing thee wholly Within the eventual element of calm. Cleon.—K. B. April 20th. Overhead the tree-tops meet, Flowers and grass spring 'neath one's feet ; There was nought above me, nought below, My childhood had not learned to know : For, what are the voices of birds — Ay, and of beasts, — but words, our words. Only so much more sweet ? The knowledge of that with my life begun. But I had so near made out the sun, And counted your stars, the seven and one, Like the fingers of my hand : Nay, I could all but understand FROM BROWNING 115 Wherefore through heaven the white moon ranges ; And just when out of her soft fifty changes No unfamiliar face might overlook me — Suddenly God took me. Pippa Passes. — R. B. /Ipril 2 1 St. *' I say that man was made to grow, not stop ; That help, he needed once, and needs no more, Having grown but an inch by, is withdrawn : Fo r he hath new needs, and new helps to these. This imports solely, man should mount on each New height in view ; the help whereby he mounts, The ladder-rung his foot has left, may fall. Since all things suffer change save God the Truth. Man apprehends Him newly at each stage Whereat earth's ladder drops, its service done; 116 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS And nothing shall prove twice what once was proved. . . What ? Was man made a wheelwork to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No ! — grown, his growth lasts ; taught, he ne'er forgets : May learn a thousand things, not twice the same." A Death in the Desert. — R. B. April 22d. "I say, that as the babe, you feed awhile, Becomes a boy and fit to feed himself, So, minds at first must be spoon-fed with truth : When they can eat, babe's nurture is with- drawn. I fed the babe whether it would or no : I bid the boy or feed himself or starve. I cried once, * That ye may believe in Christ, FROM BROWNING 117 Behold this bhnd man shall receive his sight ! ' I cry now, * Urgest thou, for I am shrewd And smile at stories how JoJm' s word could cure — Repeat that miracle and take my faith ? ' I say, that miracle was duly wrought When, save for it, no faith was possible. . I say, the acknowledgment of God in Christ Accepted by thy reason, solves for thee All questions in the earth and out of it." A Death in the Desert. — R. B. April 2jd. We are borne into life — it is sweet, it is strange ! We lie still on the knee of a mild Mystery, Which smile with a change ! But we doubt not of changes, we know not of spaces ; The Heavens seem as near as our own mother's face is, 118 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS And we think we could touch all the stars that we see ; And the milk of our mother is white on our mouth ! And with small childish hands, we are turn- ing around The apple of Life which another has found j It is warm with our touch, not with sun of the south, And we count, as we turn it, the red side for four — O Life, O Beyond, Thou art sweet, thou art strange evermore. And the birds sing like angels, so mystical fine ; And the cedars are brushing the archangel's feet; And time is eternity, love is divine, And the world is complete. Now God bless the child, — father, mother, respond ! A Rhapsody of Lifers Progress. — E. B. B. FE03I BROWNING 119 April 24th. Free Heart, that singest to-day, Like a bird on the first green spray ; Wilt thou go forth to the world ? Who calleth thee, Heart ? World's strife, With a golden heft to his knife j World's Mirth, with a finger fine That draws on a board in wine Her blood-red plans of life ; World's Gain, with a brow knit down : World's Fame, with a laurel crown. Which rustles most as the leaves turn brown — Heart, wilt thou go ? — "No, no ! Calm hearts are wiser so." Calls on the Heart— "E.. B. B. April 2^th. Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength He deigns impart ! . . . Be sure they sleep not whom God needs. Paracelsus- — R. B. 120 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS I know Thee, who hast kept my path, and made Light for me in the darkness — tempering sorrow, So that it reached me Hke a solemn joy ; It were too strange that I should doubt Thy love: the quiet place beside Thy feet, Reserved for me, was ever in my thoughts. Ibid. A real heaven in his heart throughout his life. Bishop Blougram's Apology. — R. B, April 26th. Two sayings of the Holy Scriptures beat Like pulses in the Church's brow and breast ; And by them, we find rest in our unrest, And heart-deep in salt tears, do yet entreat God's fellowship, as if on heavenly seat. The first is Jesus wept, whereon is prest Full many a sobbing face that drops its best And sweetest waters on the record sweet : FBOM BROWNING 121 And one is, where the Christ denied and scorned Looked upon Peter. Oh, to render plain, By help of having loved a little and mourned, That look of sovran love and sovran pain Which He who could not sin yet suffered, turned On him who could reject but not sustain ! The Two Sayings.— E. B. B. Aprt'l 2yth. The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word — No gesture of reproach ! The heavens se- rene Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way. The forsaken Lord Looked only, on the traitor. None record What that look was ; none guess ; for those who have seen Wronged lovers loving through a death- pang keen. 122 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword, Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call. And Peter, from the height of blasphemy — '* I never knew this man " did quail and fall, As knowing straight that God, — and turned free And went out speechless from the face of all, And filled the silence, weeping bitterly. The Look.—E. B. B. April 28th. I think that look of Christ might seem to say — ** Thou Peter ! art thou then a common stone Which I at last must break my heart upon. For all God's charge to His high angels may Guard my foot better ? Did I yesterday Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run Quick to deny Me 'neath the morning sun. And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray ? The cock crows coldly. — Go and manifest A late contrition, but no bootless fear ! For when thy final need's dreariest. FROM BROWNING 123 Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here. My voice, to God and angels, shall attest. Because I know this ma?i, let him be clears The Meaning^ of the Look. — E. B. B. April 2gth. Because a man has a shop to mind In time and place, since flesh must live, Needs spirit lack all life behind, All stray thoughts, fancies fugitive, All loves except what trade can give ? I want to know a butcher paints, A baker rhymes for his pursuit, Candlestick-maker much acquaints His soul with song, or, haply mute, Blows out his brains upon the flute ! But — shop each day and all day long ! Friend, your good angel slept, your star Suffered eclipse, fate did you wrong ! From where these sorts of treasures are, There should our hearts be — Christ, how far! Shop.—K. B. 124 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS April joth. Observe — <i I tell you rather that whoever may Discern true ends here, shall grow pure enough To love them, brave enough to strive for them. And strong enough to reach them, though the roads be rough. Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 235 Step by step was worn As each man gained on each, securely ! how Each by his own strength sought his own ideal, The ultimate perfection leaning bright From out the sun and stars, to bless the leal And earnest search of all for fair and right, Through doubtful forms, by earth ac- counted real ! Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. August lyth. Hush ! if you saw some western cloud All billowy bosomed, over-bowed By many benedictions — sun's And moon's and evening-star's at once — And so, you, looking and loving best. Conscious grew, your passion drew Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too, Down on you, near and yet more near. Till flesh must fade for heaven was here ! The Last Ride Together.— R. B. 236 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Such life here, through such length of hours, Such miracles performed in play, Such primal naked forms of flowers, Such letting nature have her way While heaven looks from its towers ! How say you ? Let us, O my dove. Let us be unashamed of soul, As earth lies bare to heaven above ! Two in the Campagna — E. B. August i8th. Do you hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years ? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the mead- ows : The young birds are chirping in their nest : The young fawns are playing with the shad- ows : The young flowers are blowing toward the west: FBOM BROWNING 237 But the young, young children, O my broth- ers, They are weeping bitterly ! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free. The Cry of the Children.— E. B. B. Patient children — think what pain Makes a young child patient — ponder ! Wronged too commonly to strain After right, or wish, or wonder. A Song for the Ragged Schools of London. — E. B. B. August rpth. Thus, at three. This poor weaned kid would run off from the fold, This babe would steal off from the mother's chair, And, creeping through the golden walls of gorse, Would find some keyhole toward the secrecy 238 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Of Heaven's high blue, and, nestling down, peer out — Oh, not to catch the angels at their games, She had never heard of angels, — but to gaze She knew not why, to see she knew not what, A-hungering outward from the barren earth For something like a joy. She liked, she said. To dazzle black her sight against the sky, For then, it seemed, some grand, blind Love came down, And groped her out, and clasped her with a kiss; She learned God that way. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. The child's sob in the silence curses deeper Than the strong man in his wrath. The Cry of the Children.— E. B. B. August 20th . Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds ? We rode ; it seemed my spirit flew, Saw other regions, cities new, FBOM BROWNING 239 As the world rushed by on either side. I thought, — All labor, yet no less Bear up beneath their unsuccess. Look at the end of work, contrast The petty done, the undone vast, This present of theirs with the hopeful past ! What hand and brain went ever paired ? What heart alike conceived and dared ? What act proved all its thought had been ? What will but felt the fleshly screen ? The Last Bide Together.— R. B. August 2ISt. So we refresh our souls, fulfill Our works, our daily tasks ; and thus Gather you grain — earth's harvest — still. Filippo Baldinucci on the Privilege of Burial. — R- B. I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on, educe the man. \/ Who keeps one end in view makes all things serve. In a Balcony, — R. B. 240 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS To only have conceived, Planned your great works, apart from progress. Surpasses little works achieved ! Waring— K. B. August 22d. Were ye wronged by me, Hated and tempted and undone of me, — Still, what's your hurt to mine of doing hurt, Of hating, tempting, and so ruining ? The sword's hilt is the sharpest, and cuts through The hand that wields it. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. Dead-white and disarmed she lay. No matter for the sword, her word sufficed To spike the coward through and through. The Ring and the Book.—R. B. Then the sword he leant upon, shivered — snapped upon the stone, — "Sword," he thought, with inward laugh, '* ill thou servest for a staff When thy nobler use is done." Bhyme of the Duchess May, — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 241 August 2jd. Prompt was found A man and man enough, heart-sober and heart-sound, Ready to hear God's voice, resolute to obey. Ivhn Ivhnovitch. — R. B. Who dared build temples, without tombs in sight? Or live, without some dead man's benison ? Or seek truth, hope for good, and strive for right, If, looking up, he saw not in the sun Some angel of the martyrs all day long Standing and waiting ? Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. Immortal as every great soul is, that struggles, endures, and fulfills. Lord Walter's Wife.—E. B. B. August 24th. The escape from pangs of heart and bodily . J weakness — when you throw off your self, — 242 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS what you feel to be yourself, — into another atmosphere and into other relations, where your life may spread its wings out new, and gather on every plume a brightness from the sun of the sun ! — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Hai-per & Brothers. With worthy acception of pure joy, Behold the trances of the holy hills Beneath the leaning stars ; or watch the vales Dew-pallid with their morning ecstasy ; Or hear the winds make pastoral peace be- tween Two grassy uplands, — and the river-wells Work out their bubbling mysteries under- ground — And all the birds sing, till for joy of song, They lift their trembling wings as if to heave The too-much weight of music from their heart And float it up the aether ! A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 243 August 2^th. Eve. — By dream or sense, Do we see this ? Adam. — Our spirits have climbed high By reason of the passion of our grief, And from the top of sense, looked over sense, To the significance and heart of things Rather than things themselves. A Drama of Exile.— ^. B. B. . . . . as when a soul Will pass out through the sweetness of a song Beyond it, voyaging the uphill road, — Even so mine wandered from the things I heard To those I suffered. It was afterward I shaped the resolution to the act. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 244 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS August 26th. There was a ripe, round, long, black, tooth- some fruit, Even a flower-fig, the prime boast of May : And, to the tree, said . . . either the spirit o' the fig. Or, if we bring in men, the gardener, . . . . Well, anyhow, one with au- thority said " Ripe fig, burst skin, regale the fig-pecker — The bird whereof thou art a perquisite ! " «' Nay," with a flounce, replied the restif fig, '' I much prefer to keep my pulp myself: He may go breakfastless and dinnerless, Supperless of one crimson seed, for me ! " So, back she flopped into her bunch of leaves. He flew off, left her, — did the natural lord, — And lo, three hundred thousand bees and wasps Found her out, feasted on her to the shuck : Such gain the fig's that gave its bird no bite : 7'he Ring and the Book, — R. B. FB03I BROWNING 245 August 2yth. Earth Spirits. Yet, O mortals, do not fear us, We are gentle in our languor ; And more good ye shall have near us Than any pain or anger : And our God's refracted blessing in our blessing shall be given ! Ye shall find us tender nurses To your weariness of nature j And our hands shall stroke the curse's Dreary furrows from the creature, i ill your bodies shall lie smooth in death, and straight and slumberful : Then a couch we will provide you Where no summer heat shall dazzle ; Strewing on you and beside you Thyme and rosemary and basil — And the yew-tree shall grow overhead to keep all safe and cool. A Drama of Exile,— E, B. B. 246 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS August 28th. We, who are the seed Of buried creatures, if we turned and spat Upon our antecedents, we were vile. Bring violets rather. If these had not walked Their furlong, could we hope to walk our mile? Therefore bring violets ! Yet if we, self- baulked. Stand still a-strewing violets all the while. These moved in vain, of whom we have vainly talked. So rise up henceforth with a cheerful smile, And having strewn the violets, reap the corn. And, having reaped and garnered, bring the plough And draw new furrows 'neath the healthy morn. And plant the great Hereafter in this Now. Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. We hurry onward to extinguish hell With our fresh souls, our younger hope, and God's Maturity of purpose. - ibid. FBOM BROWNING 247 August 2pth. . . . . moments .... When the spirit's true endowments Stand out plainly from its false ones, And apprise it if pursuing Or the right way or the wrong way, To its triumph or undoing. Oh, observe ! Of course, next moment, The world's honors, in derision, Trampled out the light forever ; Never fear but there's provision Of the devil's to quench knowledge Lest we walk the earth in rapture ! — Making those who catch God's secret Just so much more prize their capture ! Cristina, — R. B. August ^oth. It is amusing to me, quite amusing, to observe how people cannot conceive of work except under certain familiar forms. Men 248 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS who dig in ditches have an idea that the man who leads the plow rather rests than works ; and all men of outdoor labor distrust the industry of the manufacturers indoors — while both manufacturers and outdoor labor- ers consider the holders of offices and clerk- ships as idle men . . . gentlemen at ease. Then between all these classes and the intel- lectual worker, the difference is wider, and the want of perception more complete. The work of creation, nobody will admit . . . though everybody has by heart, without lay- ing it to heart, that God rested on the seventh day. Looking up to the stars at nights, they might as well take all to be motionless — though if there were no motion there would be no morning . . . and they look for a morning after all. . . . The hedger and the ditcher they see working, but God they do not see working. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. FROM BROWNING 249 August J I St. But when the summer day was past, He looked to heaven and smiled at last. . . . Self answered so — Man and Nature.— E. B. B. O solemn-beating heart Of nature ! I have knowledge that thou art Bound unto man's by cords he cannot sever. A Seaside Walk.—E. B. B. Those who would change man's voice and use For Nature's way and tone — Man's veering heart and careless eyes, For Nature's steadfast sympathies. An JaZamf.—E. B. B. SEPTEMBER. September ist. Autumn has come — like Spring returned to us, Won from her girlishness — Hke one returned A friend that was a lover — nor forgets The first warm love, but full of sober thoughts Of fading years ; whose soft mouth quivers yet With the old smile — but yet so changed and still ! Pauline. — R. B. Sights Come thick and clear enough in thought. Without the sunshine ; souls have inner lights. Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. Hearts run out of breath and sight Of men, to God's clear light. Parting Lovers, — E. B. B. 254 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS September 2d. Ah, Love, but a day, And the world has changed ! The sun's away. And the bird estranged : The wind has dropped, And the sky's deranged ; Summer has stopped. Look in my eyes ! Wilt thou change too? Should I fear surprise ? Shall I find ought new In the old and dear, In the good and true, With the changing year? James Zee's Wife.—K. B. September jd. As one content to merely be supposed Singing or fighting elsewhere, while he dozed Really at home — one who was chiefly glad To have achieved the few real deeds he had, FROM BROWNING 255 Because that way assured they were not worth Doing, so spared from doing them hence- forth— A tree that covets fruitage and yet tastes Never itself, itself. Sordeno.--^. B. Each life unfulfilled, you see ; It hangs still, patchy and scrappy : We have not sighed deep, laughed free, Starved, feasted, despaired, — been happy. Youth and Art. — R. B. September 4th. What a sight ! A holiday of miserable men Is sadder than a burial-day of kings. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. How, on that day you recollect at Cleves, When the poor acquiescing multitude Who thrust themselves with all their woes apart Into unnoticed corners, that the few Their means sufficed to muster trappings for, 256 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Might fill the foreground, occupy your sight With joyous faces fit to bear away And boast of as a sample of all Cleves — How, when to daylight these crept out once more. Clutching, unconscious, each his empty rags Whence the scant coin, which had not half bought bread, That morn he shook forth, counted piece by piece. And, well-advisedly, on perfumes spent them To burn, or flowers to strew before your path. Colomhe's Birthday. — R. B. September ^th. A woman was once killed with gifts, crushed with the weight of golden bracelets thrown at her : and, knowing myself, I have wondered more than a little, how it was that 1 could bear this strange and unused gladness, without sinking as the emotion rose. Only I was incredulous at first, and the day broke slowly . . . and the gifts fell like rain . . . softly ; and God gives strength, by His prov- FROM BBOWNINQ 257 idence, for sustaining blessings as well as stripes. — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Har- per & Brothers. What can I give thee back, O liberal And princely giver, . . . who has brought the gold And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold, And laid them on the outside of the wall For such as I to take or leave withal, In unexpected largesse ? Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September 6th. I trust in Nature for the stable laws Of Beauty and Utility — Spring shall plant, And Autumn garner to the end of time : I trust in God — the Right shall be the Right And other than the Wrong, while He endures — I trust in my own soul, that can perceive The outward and the inward, Nature's good And God's. A SouVs Tragedy.— R. B. 258 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS One look upon earth — but one — Over the blue mountain-lines, Over the forests of palms and pines ; Over the harvest-lands golden ; Over the valleys that fold in The gardens and vines ! The Seraphim.— E. B. B. September yth. Take them from a heart that yearns to give ! Colombe^s Birthday. — R. B. Can it be right to give what I can give ? To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years Re-sighing on my lips renunciative Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live For all thy adjurations ? O my fears, That this can scarce be right ! We are not peers, So to be lovers j and I own and grieve FROM BROWNING 259 That givers of such gifts as mine are, must Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas ! I will not soil thy purple with my dust. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September 8th. Then my days spoke not, and my nights of fire Were voiceless ? Then the very heart may burst Yet all prove naught, because no mincing speech Tells leisurely that thus it is and thus ? A SouVs Tragedy.— R. B. Love like mine must have return, I thought : no river starts but to some sea. • . . . If I knew any heart, as mine loved you, Loved me, though in the vilest breast 'twere lodged, I should, I think, be forced to love again : Else there's no right nor reason in the world. Ibid. 260 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS September gth. Oh, wilt thou have my hand, Dear, to He along in thine? As a little stone in a running stream, it seems to lie and pine ! Now drop the poor pale hand, Dear, . , . unfit to plight with thine. Oh, wilt thou have my cheek. Dear, draw closer to thine own ? My cheek is white, my cheek is worn, by many a tear run down. Now leave a little space. Dear, lest it should wet thine own. Oh, must thou have my soul. Dear, commin- gled with thy soul ? — Red grows the cheek, and warm the hand, ... the part is in the whole ! . . . Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate, when soul is joined to soul. inclusions.— £. B. £. FIi03f BROWNING 261 My heart shall grow- Too close against thine heart, henceforth to know How it shook when alone. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September loth. Love me, sweet, with all thou art, Feehng, thinking, seeing, — Love me in the lightest part. Love me in full being. Love me with thy thinking soul — Break it to love-sighing ; Love me with thy thoughts that roll On through living — dying. Love me with thy gorgeous airs, When the world has crowned thee ! Love me, kneeling at thy prayers, With the angels round thee. 262 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Through all hopes that keep us brave, Further off or nigher, Love me for the house and grave, — And for something higher. A Man's Requirements — E. B. B. September nth. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me ? Shall I never miss Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange. When I look up to drop on a new range Of walls and floors . . . another home than this? Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change ? That's hardest ! If to conquer love, has tried, To conquer grief tries more ... as all things prove, For grief indeed is love and grief beside. FEOM BROWNING 263 Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love — Yet love me — wilt thou ? Open thine heart wide, And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September 12th. Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett married September 12, 1846. '' First, God's love. And next," he smiled, ** the love of wedded souls. Which still presents that mystery's counter- part." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Beloved, let us love so well, Our work shall still be better for our love. And still our love be sweeter for our work. And both commended, for the sake of each, By all true workers and true lovers born. Ibid, 264 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS For God above Is great to grant as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love. Evelyn Hope, — R. B. September ijth. " Write woman's verses and dream woman's dreams ; But let me feel your perfume in my home, To make my Sabbath after working-days ; Bloom out your youth beside me, — be my wife." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. *' Till death us do part ? " Till death us do join past parting — that sounds like Betrothal indeed ! Martin Eelph.—R. B. " I ask for love. And that she can ; for fellowship in life Through bitter duties — that, I know she can; For wifehood . . . will she ? " Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 265 That so, in gravity and holy calm, We two may live on toward the truer life. lUd, September 14th. To E. B. B. There they are, my fifty men and women Naming me the fifty poems finished ! Take them, love, the book and me together : Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also. This I say of me, but think of you. Love I This to you — yourself my moon of poets ! Ah, but that's the world's side, there's the wonder, Thus they see you, praise you, think they know you. There, in turn I stand with them and praise you. Out of my own self, I dare to phrase it. But the best is when I glide from out them, Cross a step or two of dubious twilight. 266 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Come out on the other side, the novel Silent silver lights and darks undreamed of, Where I hush and bless myself with silence. One Word More.—R. B. September i^th. How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right ; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith ; I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath. Smiles, tears, of all my life ! — and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 267 September i6th. " Let me get Her for myself, and what's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth, — Compared with love, found, gained, and kept?" Dis Aliter Visum. — R. B. Say thou dost love me, love me, love me — toll The silver iterance ! — only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. Yet love, mere love, is beautiful indeed And worthy of acceptation. . . . There's nothing low In love, when love the lowest : meanest crea- tures Who love God, God accepts while loving so. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September lyth. I am named and known by that moment's feat; There took my station and degree; 268 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS So grew my own small life complete, As nature obtained her best of me — One born to love you, sweet ! And to watch you sink by the fireside now Back again, as you mutely sit Musing by fire-light, that great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it, Yonder, my heart knows how ! So, earth has gained by one man the more. And the gain of earth must be heaven's gain too; And the whole is well worth thinking o'er When autumn comes. By the Fireside.—R. B. September i8th. If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say " I love her for her smile . . . her look . . . her way FROM BROWNING 269 Of speaking gently ... for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day " For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee, — and love so wrought May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry; A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby. But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou may'st love on through love's eternity. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September ipth. Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm: 270 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS And let us hear no sound of human strife After the chck of the shutting. Life to hfe — I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm. And feel as safe as guarded by a charm, Against the stab of worldlings who if rife Are weak to injure. Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots ! accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer ; Growing straight, out of man's reach on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor. Sonnets from the Portuguese. — E. B. B. September 20th. Ye would withdraw your sense From out eternity, strain it upon time, Then stand before that fact, that Life and Death, Stay there at gaze, till it dispart, dispread, As though a star should open out, all sides, Grow the world on you, as it is my world. FROM BROWNING 271 For life, with all it yields of joy and woe, And hope and fear, — believe the aged friend, — Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love, How love might be, hath been indeed, and is; And that we hold thenceforth to the utter- most Such prize despite the envy of the world, And, having gained truth, keep truth; that is all. A Death in the Desert. — R. B. September 21st Ah, child, look up into the sky ! In this low world, where great Deeds die, What matter if we live ? A Tale of Villa-Franca.—E. B. B. ''Paid by the world, what dost thou owe Me?" — God might question; now, instead, 'Tis God shall repay : I am safer so. The Patriot,— K. B. 272 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Life is probation, and this earth no goal But starting-point of men. The Ring and the Book.—R. B. September 22d. He beUeved, say, half he spoke, The other portion, as he shaped it thus For argumentatory purposes, He felt his foe was foolish to dispute. Some arbitrary accidental thoughts That crossed his mind, amusing because new, He chose to represent as fixtures there, Invariable convictions (such they seemed Beside his interlocutor's loose cards Flung daily down, and not the same way twice) While certain hell-deep instincts, man's weak tongue Is never bold to utter in their truth Because styled hell-deep ('tis an old mib- take To place hell at the bottom of the earth) FROM BROWNING 273 He ignored these, — not having in readiness Their nomenclature and philosophy : He said true things, but called them by wrong names. Bishop Blougram^s Apology. — R. B. September 2}d. But see the double way wherein we are led, How the soul learns diversely from the flesh ! With flesh, that hath so little time to stay, And yields mere basement for the soul's emprise. Expect prompt teaching. Helpful was the light, And warmth was cherishing and food was choice To every man's flesh, thousand years ago, As now to yours and mine ; the body sprang At once to the height, and stayed : but the soul, — no ! Since sages who, this noontide, meditate In Rome or Athens, may descry some point Of the eternal power, hid yestereve ; 274 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS And as thereby the power's whole mass ex- tends So much extends the aether floating o'er The love that tops the might, the Christ in God. A Death in the Desert. — R. B. September 24th. Yes, but first Set down thy people's faults : set down the want Of soul-conviction ; set down aims dis- persed, And incoherent means, and valor scant Because of scanty faith, and schisms ac- cursed That wrench these brother -hearts from cove- nant With freedom and each other. Set down this And this, and see to overcome it when The seasons bring the fruits thou wilt not miss FROM BROWNING 275 If wary. Let no cry of patriot men Distract thee from the stern analysis Of masses who cry only : . . . . . . . . nor stand apart . . . from those pure Brave men who hold the level of thy heart In patriot truth. Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. September 2^th. Here the blot is blanched By God's gift of a purity of soul That will not take pollution, ermine-like Armed from dishonor by its own soft snow. Such was this gift of God who showed for once How He would have the world go white. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. A woman poor or rich, Despised or honored, is a human soul ; And what her soul is, — that she is herself, Although she should be spit upon of men, As is the pavement of the churches here. Still good enough to pray in. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 276 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS September 26th. Grief taught to me this smile, she said, And Wrong did teach this jesting bold ; . . . . ■ Behind, no prison-grate, she said. Which slurs the sunshine half a mile. Live captives so uncomforted. As souls behind a smile. God's pity let us pray, she said. If I dared leave this smile, she said, And take a moan upon my mouth, And tie a cypress round my head, And let my tears run smooth, — It were the happier way, she said. Ye weep for those who weep ? she said — Ah, fools ! I bid you pass them by ; Go, weep for those whose hearts have bled. What time their eyes were dry ! Whom sadder can I say ? — she said. The Mask.—E. B. B. FBOM BROWNING 277 September lyth. Pure faith indeed .... Naked belief in God the Omnipotent, Omniscient, Omnipresent. Bishop Blougram's Apology. — R. B. Rehgion's all or nothing ; it's no mere smile O' contentment, sigh of aspiration, sir — No quality o' the finelier-tempered clay Like its whiteness or its lightness ; rather, stuff O' the very stuff, life of life, and self of self. Mr. Sludge, " The Medium.''— R. B. Your business is not to catch men with show. With homage to the perishable clay, But lift them over it, ignore it all, Make them forget there's such a thing as flesh. Fra Lippo Lippi. — R. B. September 2Sth. A solemn thing it is to me To look upon a babe that sleeps — Wearying in its spirit-deeps The undeveloped mystery 278 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Of its Adam's taint and woe, Which, when they developed be, Will not let it slumber so : O little lids, now folded fast. Must ye learn to drop at last Our large and burning tears ? O warm, quick body, must thou lie, When the time comes round to die, Still from all the whirl of years. Bare of all the joy and pain ? O small frail being, wilt thou stand At God's right hand, Lifting up those sleeping eyes, Dilated by great destinies. To an endless waking ? IsoheVa Child.— E. B. B. September 2gth, Chorus of Invisible Angels : Hear our heavenly promise Through your mortal passion I Love ye shall have from us, In a pure relation ! FEOM BROWNING 279 As a fish or bird Swims or flies, if moving, We unseen are heard To live on by loving. Far above the glances Of your eager eyes, Listen ! we are loving ! Listen, through man's ignorances — Listen, through God's mysteries — Listen down the heart of things. Ye shall hear our mystic wings Murmurous with loving ! A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. September joth. Chorus of Invisible Angels : When your bodies therefore. Reach the grave their goal. Softly we will care for Each enfranchised soul ! There a sough of glory Shall breathe on you as you come, 280 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Ruffling round the doorway All the light of angeldom. From the empyrean centre Heavenly voices shall repeat — " Souls redeemed and pardoned, enter ; For the chrism on you is sweet. ' ' And every angel in the place Lowlily shall bow his face, Folded fair on softened sounds, Because upon your hands and feet He images his Master's wounds. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. OCTOBER. October ist Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning ! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth : Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet. That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true ; Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. If you loved only what were worth your love. Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you : Make the low nature better by your throes ! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above ! James Lee^a Wife.—R. B. 284 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 2d. Through the blue Immense Strike out all swimmers ! cling not in the way Of one another, so to sink ; but learn The strong man's impulse, catch the fresh- 'ning spray He throws up in his motions, and discerns By his clear westering eye, the time of day. Thou, God, hast set us worthy gifts to earn, Besides Thy heaven and Thee ! and when I say There's room here for the weakest man alive To live and die, — there's room too, I repeat. For all the strongest to live well and strive, Their own way, by their individual heat, — Like a new bee-swarm leaving the old hive, Despite the wax which tempts so violent- sweet. Ca»a Quidi Windows. — E. B. B. October ^d. The sun comes out again ; Let us be happy : all will yet go well ! Let us confer : is it not like, Aprile, FEOM BROWNING 285 That spite of trouble, this ordeal passed, The value of my labors ascertained, Just as some stream foams long among the rocks But after glideth glassy to the sea, So, full content shall henceforth be my lot ? . . . . Do you ask How could I still remain on earth, should God Grant me the great approval which I seek ? . . . . But men would murmur, and with cause enough ; For when they saw me, stainless of all sin, Preserved and sanctified by inward light. They would complain that comfort, shut from them, I drank thus unespied ; that they live on, Nor taste the quiet of a constant joy, For ache and care and doubt and weariness, While I am calm ; help being vouchsafed to me. Paracelsus. — R. B. 286 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 4th. Who staggeringly, stumblingly, rises, falls, rises, at random flings his weight On and on, anyhow onward ! Martin Eelph.—R. B. Well, onward, though alone ! Small time remains, And much to do: I must have fruit, must reap Some profit from my toils. I doubt my body Will hardly serve me through ; while I have labored It has decayed ; and now that I demand Its best assistance, it will crumble fast : A sad thought, a sad fate ! How very full Of wormwood 'tis, that just at altar-service, The rapt hymn rising with the rolling smoke, When glory dawns and all is at the best, The sacred fire may flicker and grow faint And die for want of a wood-piler's help ! Thus fades the flagging body. Paracelsus. — R. B. FEOM BROWNING 287 October ^th. Small spheres hold small fires : But he loved largely, as a man can love Who baffled in his love, dares live his life. Accept the ends which God loves for his own, And lift a constant aspect. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. A man may love a woman perfectly, And yet by no means ignorantly maintain A thousand women have not larger eyes : Enough that she alone has looked at him With eyes that, small or large, have won his soul. Ihid. He can stand alone ; A man like him is never overcome ; No woman like me, counts him pitiable While saints applaud him. Jhid. 288 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 6th. Say I not '' you'll hear me now ! " And what procures a man the right to speak In his defence before his fellow-man, But — I suppose — the thought that presently He may have leave to speak before his God His whole defence ? A Blot in the ^Scutcheon. — R. B. Haste And anger have undone us. Ihid. The thing I pity most In men is — action prompted by surprise Of anger : men ? nay, bulls — whose onset lies At instance of the firework and the goad ! Once the foe prostrate, — trampling once be- stowed, — Prompt follows placability, regret, Atonement. Trust me, blood-warmth never yet Betokened strong will ! A Forgiveness. — R. B. FEOM BBOWNINQ 289 October yth. Bring us the higher example ; release us Into the larger coming time : . . . . No more of Jew or Greek then — taunting Nor taunted ; no more England nor France ! But one confederate brotherhood, planting One flag only, to mark the advance, Onward and upward, of all humanity. For fully developed Christianity Is civilization perfected. ** Measure the frontier," shall be said, " Count the ships," in national vanity? — Count the nation's heart-beats sooner. Each Christian nation shall take upon her The law of the Christian man in vast : The crown of the getter shall fall to the donor. And last shall be first while first shall be last. Italy and the World.— E. B. B. 290 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 8th. Oh, be sure, You, everybody blunders, just as I, In simpler things than these by far ! For see : I knew two farmers, — one, a wiseacre Who studied seasons, rummaged almanacs. Quoted the dew-point, registered the frost, And then declared, for outcome of his pains, Next summer must be dampish : 'twas a drought. His neighbor prophesied such drought would fall, Saved hay and corn, made cent, per cent. thereby. And proved a sage indeed : how came his lore ? Because one brindled heifer, late in March, Stiffened her tail of evenings, and somehow He got into his head a drought was meant ! Mr. Sludge, '' The Medium.''— R. B. October gth. That pale soft sweet disempassioned moon Which smiles me slow forgiveness ! Numjpholeptoa, — R. B. FROM BROWNING 291 And saintly moonlight seemed to search And wash the whole world clean as gold. Bianca Among the Nightingales. — E. B. B. A warm moon like a happy face. Paracelsus. — R. B. But oh, the night ! oh, bitter-sweet ! oh, sweet ! O dark, O moon and stars, O ecstasy Of darkness ! Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. The comfort thou hast caused mankind, God's moon ! In a Balcony. — R. B. October roth. Festus : But all comes To the same thing. 'Tis fruitless for man- kind To fret themselves with what concerns them not; They are no use that way : they should lie down 292 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Content as God has made them, nor go mad In thriveless cares to better what is ill. Paracelsus : No, no ; mistake me not ; let me not work More harm than I have worked ! This is my case: If I go joyous back to God, yet bring No offering, if I render up my soul Without the fruits it was ordained to bear, If I appear the better to love God For sin, as one who has no claim on Him, — Be not deceived ! It may be surely thus With me, while higher prizes still await The mortal persevering to the end. Paracelsus. — R. B. October nth. Tears, tears ! why we weep ? 'Tis worth inquiry? — That we've shamed a life. Or lost a love, or missed a world, perhaps ? By no means. Simply, that we've walked too far, FBOM BROWNING 293 Or talked too much, or felt the wind i' the east, — And so we weep, as if both body and soul Broke up in water. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B, We cannot say the morning sun fulfills Ingloriously its course : nor that the clear Strong stars without significance insphere Our habitation. We, meantime, our ills Heap up against this good ; and lift a cry Against this work-day world, this ill-spread feast. As if ourselves were better certainly Than what we come to. Adequacy. — E, B. B. October 12th. But why do I mount to poets ? Take plain prose — Dealers in common sense, set these at work, What can they do without their helpful lies? 294 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Each states the law and fact and face o' the thing Just as he'd have them, finds what he thinks fit, Is blind to what missuits him, just records What makes his case out, quite ignores the rest. It's a History of the World, the Lizard Age, The Early Indians, the Old Country War, Jerome Napoleon, whatsoever you please. All as the author wants it. Such a scribe You pay and praise for putting life in stones, Fire into fog, making the past your world. There's plenty of *' How did you contrive to grasp The thread which led you through this laby- rinth ? How build such solid fabric out of air ? How on so slight foundation found this tale, Biography, narrative?" or, in other words, ** How many lies did it require to make The portly truth you here present us with?" Mr. Sludge, " The 3Iedium."—R. B. FROM BROWNING 295 October ijth. Why, what right have you, made fair by that same God — the sweetest woman Of all women He has fashioned — with your lovely spirit-face. Which would seem too near to vanish if its smile were not so human, And your voice of holy sweetness, turning common words to grace. What right can you have, God's other works to scorn, despise, revile them In the gross, as mere men, broadly — not as no^/e men, forsooth, — As mere Pariahs of the outer world ? Lady Geraldine's Courtship. — E. B. B. What could such lovely ladies have to do With the old man there, in those ill-odorous rags. Except to keep the wind-side of him ? Aurora Leigh, — E. B. B. 296 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS I would be bold and bear To look into the swarthiest face of things, For God's sake who has made them. lUd. October 14th. Doubtless a searching and impetuous soul Might learn from its own motions that some task Like this awaited it about the world ; Might seek somewhere in this blank life of ours For fit delights to stay its longings vast ; And, grappling Nature, so prevail on her To fill the creature full she dared thus frame Hungry for joy : . . . . Doubtless a strong soul, Alone, unaided might attain to this, So glorious is our nature, so august Man's inborn, uninstructed impulses, His naked spirit so majestical ! Paracelsus. — R. B. FBOM BROWNING 297 October i^th. When some Beloveds, 'neath whose eyelids lay The sweet lights of my childhood, one by one Did leave me dark before the natural sun, And I astonished fell, and could not pray, A thought within me to myself did say, *'Is God less God that thou art left un- done? Rise, worship, bless Him, in this sackcloth spun, As in that purple ! " — But I answered, Nay ! What child his filial heart in words can loose, If he behold his tender father raise The hand that chastens sorely? can he choose But sob in silence with an upward gaze ? — And my great Father, thinking fit to bruise, Discerns in speechless tears, both prayer and praise. Bereavement. — E. B. B. 298 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October i6th. A few daylight doses of plain life. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. What does the father when his son lies dead, The merchant when his money bags take wing, The politician whom a rival ousts ? No case but has its conduct faith prescribes, Where's the obedience that shall edify? Why, they laugh frankly in the face of faith And take the natural course : this rends his hair Because his child is taken to God's breast; That gnashes teeth and raves at loss of trash Which rust corrupts and thieves break through and steal ; And this, enabled to inherit earth Through meekness, curses till your blood runs cold. The Ring and the Book, — R. B. FROM BROWNING 299 October lyth. "To-day thou girdest up thy loins thyself, And goest where thou wouldest : presently Others shall gird thee," said the Lord, ''to go When thou would' st not." He spoke to Peter thus. To signify the death which he should die When crucified head downward. If He spoke To Peter then, He speaks to us the same ; The word suits many different martyrdoms, And signifies a multiform of death. Although we scarcely die apostles, we. And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth. For 'tis not in mere death that men die most; And, after our first girding of the loins In youth's fine linen and fair broidery To run up hill and meet the rising sun. We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool. While others gird us with the violent bands 300 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Of social figments, feints, and formalisms. Reversing our straight nature, lifting up Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts. Head -downward on the cross-sticks of the world. Yet He can pluck us from that shameful cross. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. October i8th. " We must be here to work ; And men who work can only work for men. And, not to work in vain, must comprehend Humanity, and so work humanly. And raise men's bodies still by raising souls. As God did first." " But stand upon the earth," I said, " to raise them, — (this is human too ; There's nothing high which has not first been low, My humbleness, said One, has made me great ! ) As God did last." FROM BROWNING 301 ** And work all silently, And simply," he returned, '* as God does all ; Distort our nature never for our work, Nor count our right hands stronger for being hoofs. The man most man, with tenderest human hands, Works best for men, — as God in Nazareth." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. October igth. Two poor ignoble hearts who did their best Part God's way, part the other way than God's, To somehow make a shift and scramble through The world's mud. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. Lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white. Aurora Leigh — E. B. B. 302 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Flower from root, And spiritual from natural, grade by grade In all our life. A handful of the earth To make God's image ! the despised poor earth, The healthy odorous earth. lUd. October 20th. The man here, once so arrogant And resdess, so ambitious, for his part, . . . . Is now contented. From his personal loss He has come to hope for others when they lose. And wear a gladder faith in what we gain, Through bitter experience, compensation sweet, — . . . . I am quiet now. As tender surely for the suffering world. But quiet, — sitting at the wall to learn. Content henceforth to do the thing I can : For, though as powerless, said I, as a stone, A stone can still give shelter to a worm, And it is worth while being a stone for that. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. FR03I BROWNING 303 There is no duty patent in the world Like daring try be good and true myself. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. October 21 si. Let us give The blessing of our souls, and wish them strong To bear it to the height where prayers arrive, When faithful spirits pray against a wrong ; To this great cause of southern men, who strive In God's name for man's rights, and shall not fail ! Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. O Lord of Peace, who art Lord of Right- eousness, Constrain the anguished world from sin and grief. Pierce them with conscience, purge them with redress. And give us peace which is no counterfeit ! Ibid, 304 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Good And glory are not different. Announce law By freedom ; exalt chivalry by peace. Ibid. October 22d. Oh, to look back ! It is so wonderful to me to look back on my life and my old phi- losophy of life, made of the necessities of sorrow and the resolution to attain to some- thing better than a perpetual moaning and complaint, — to that state of neutralized emo- tion to which I did attain — that serenity which meant failure of hope ! — From Tlie Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. The cruelty of the world, and the treason of it — the unworthiness of the dearest ; of these griefs I have scanty knowledge. It seems to me from my personal experience that there is kindness everywhere in different FROM BROWNING 305 proportions, and more goodness and tender- heartedness than we read of in the moralists. Ibid. October 2^d. My own East ! How nearer God we were ! He glows above With scarce an intervention, presses close And palpitatingly, His soul o'er ours ! We feel Him, nor by painful reason know ! The everlasting minute of creation Is felt there ; now it is, as it was then ; All changes at His instantaneous will. Not by the operation of a law Whose maker is elsewhere at other work. His hand is still engaged upon His world — Man's praise can forward it, man's prayers suspend. For is not God all-mighty ? To recast The world, erase old things and make them new. What costs it Him? So, man breathes nobly there ! Luria. — R. B, 306 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 24th. We talk by aggregates, And think by systems ; and, being used to face Our evils in statistics, are inclined To cap them with unreal remedies Drawn out in haste on the other side of thi slate. . . . . If we pray at all, We pray no longer for our daily bread. But next centenary's harvests. If we give, Our cup of water is not tendered till We lay down pipes and found a Company With Branches. . . . A woman cannot do the thing she ought. Which means whatever perfect thing she can, In life, in art, in science, but she fears To let the perfect action take her part And rest there: she must prove what she can do Before she does it, — prate of woman's rights. Of woman's mission, woman's function, till FBOM BROWNING 307 The men (who are prating too on their side) cry, *< A woman's function plainly is — to talk." Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. October 2^th. But bring not near the solemn corse, a type of human seeming ! Lay only dust's stern verity upon the dust un- dreaming. And while the calm perpetual stars shall look upon it solely. Her sphered soul shall look on them, with eyes more bright and holy. Nor mourn, O living one, because her part in life was mourning. Would she have lost the poet's fire for anguish of the burning ? — The minstrel's harp, for the strained string ? the tripod, for the afflated Woe ? or the vision, for those tears, in which it shone dilated ? Felicia Hemans. — E. B. B. 308 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Ah, we know Too much here, not to know what's best for peace ; We have too much light here, not to want more fire To purify and end us. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. October 26th. Nor shall my memory want a home in yours — Alas, that it requires too well such free Forgiving love as shall embalm it there ! For if you would remember me aright — As I was born to be — you must forget All fitful, strange, and moody waywardness Which e'er confused my better spirit, to dwell Only on moments such as these, dear friends ! — My heart no truer, but my words and ways More true to it : as Michal, some months hence, Will say, ^' this autumn was a pleasant time," For some few sunny days ; and overlook Its bleak wind, hankering after pining leaves. Autumn would fain be sunny — I would look FIi03I BROWNING Liker my nature's truth \ and both are frail, And both beloved for all their frailty ! Paracelsus. — R. B. October 2yth. The world Lives out of doors, sir — not with you and me By presence-chamber porches, stateroom stairs, Whatever warmth's perpetual: outside' s free To every wind from every compass-point. And who may get nipped needs be weather- Colombe's Birthday. — R. B. With smiles they drew From outward Nature, still kept new From their own inward nature true. A Vision of Poets. — E. B. B. And those who heard it understood Something of life in spirit and blood — Something of Nature's fair and good. lUd. 310 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October 28th. The chivalry That dares the right, and disregards alike The yea and nay o' the world. The Ring and the Book.—R. B. These fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men. A Vision of Poets.— E. B. B. Take the old way, trod when men were men ! The Ring and the Book. — K. B. Recipes . . . . For wrestling with luxurious lounging sleeves, And acting heroism without a scratch. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B, October 2gth. I know you, and the lofty spirit you bear, . . . . These are the trials meet for such as you. Nor must you hope exemption : to be mortal Is to be plied with trials manifold. FEOM BROWNING 311 Look round ! The obstacles which have kept the rest Of men from your ambition, you have spurned ; Their fears, their doubts, the chains that bind them best, Were wax before your resolute soul, which nought Avails to awe, save these delusions, bred From its own strength, its selfsame strength, disguised — Mocking itself. Be brave, dear Aureole ! Since The rabbit has his shade to frighten him, The fawn the rustling bough, mortals their cares, And higher natures yet their power to laugh At these entangling fantasies, as you At trammels of a weaker intellect. Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts ! Paracelsus, — R. B. 312 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS October joth. How sure it is, That, if we say a true word, instantly We feel 'tis God's, not ours, and pass it on As bread at sacrament we taste and pass Nor handle for a moment, as indeed We dared to set up any claim to such ! Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. He too received his sacramental gift With eucharistic meanings ; for he loved. Aurora Leigh, — E. B, B. And, for I am a man, I dare not do God's work, until assured I see with God. The Ring and the Book. — R. B. October J I St. *Twas hard to sing by Babel's stream More hard, in Babel's street ; But if the soulless creatures deem Their music not unmeet For sunless walls — let us begin, Who wear immortal wings within I FROM BROWNING 313 To me, fair memories belong Of scenes that used to bless ; For no regret, but present song, And lasting thankfulness ; And very soon to break away, Like types, in purer things than they. I will have hopes that cannot fade. For flowers the valley yields ; I will have humble thoughts instead Of silent dewy fields ; My spirit and my God shall be My sea-ward hill, my boundless sea ! The Doves.— E. B. B. NOVEMBER. November ist Oh, beautiful Art thou, Earth, albeit worse Than in heaven is called good ! Good to us, that we may know Meekly from thy good to go ; While the holy, crying Blood Puts its music, kind and low, 'Twixt such ears as are not dull, And thine ancient curse ! Praised be the mosses soft In thy forest pathways oft. And the thorns, which make us think Of the thornless river-brink. Where the ransomed tread ! Praised be thy sunny gleams. And the storm, that worketh dreams Of calm unfinished ! 318 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS And thy night-time's solemn need, When in God's dear book we read No night shall be therein. Praised be thy dwellings warm, By household fagot's cheerful blaze, Where, to hear of pardoned sin, Pauseth oft the merry din, Save the babe's upon the arm. Who croweth to the crackling wood. Yea, and better understood. Praised be thy dwellings cold, Hid beneath the churchyard mould, Where the bodies of the saints. Separate from earthly taints, Lie asleep, in blessing bound, Waiting for the trumpet's sound To free them into blessing ; — none Weeping more beneath the sun. Earth and Her Praisers. — E. B. B. November 2d. As light November snows to empty nests. As grass to graves, as moss to mildewed stones, FROM BROWNING 319 As July suns to ruins through the rents, As ministering spirits to mourners, through a loss, As Heaven itself to men, through pangs of death He came uncalled wherever grief had come. Aurora Leigh, — E. B. B. She told me how he had raised and rescued her With reverent pity, as, in touching grief. He touched the wounds of Christ, — and made her feel More self-respecting. Hope, he called, be- lief In God, — work, worship . . . therefore let us pray ! lUd. November jd. By anguish which made pale the sun, I hear Him charge His saints that none Among the creatures anywhere Blaspheme against Him with despair, However darkly days go on. 320 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS For us, . . . whatever' s undergone, Thou knowest, wiliest what is done, Grief may be joy misunderstood : Only the Good discerns the good. I trust Thee while my days go on. I praise Thee while my days go on, I love Thee while my days go on ! Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost. With emptied arms and treasure lost I thank Thee while my days go on ! De Frofundis.—E. B. B. November 4th. Power — neither put forth blindly, nor con- trolled Calmly by perfect knowledge ; to be used At risk, inspired or checked by hope and fear : Knowledge — not intuition, but the slow Uncertain fruit of an enhancing toil, FBOM BROWNING 321 Strengthened by love : love — not serenely pure, But strong from weakness, like a chance- sown plant Which, cast on stubborn soil, puts forth changed buds And softer strains, unknown in happier climes ; Love which endures and doubts and is op- pressed And cherished, suffering much and much sustained, And blind, oft-failing, yet believing love, A haif-enlightened, often-chequered trust : — Hints and previsions of which faculties. Are strewn confusedly everywhere about The inferior natures, and all lead up higher. All shape out dimly the superior race, The heir of hopes too fair to turn out false And man appears at last. Paracelsus. — R. B. 322 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS November ^th. One man shall crawl Through life, surrounded with all stirring things, Unmoved — and he goes mad ; and from the wreck Of what he was, by his wild talk alone. You first collect how great a spirit he hid. Therefore set free the soul alike in all. Discovering the true laws by which the flesh Bars in the spirit ! We may not be doomed To cope with seraphs, but at least the rest Shall cope with us. Make no more giants, God! But elevate the race at once ! We ask To put forth just our strength, our human strength, All starting fairly, all equipped alike. Gifted alike, all eagle-eyed, true-hearted — . . . . And why should I be sad, or lorn of hope ? FROM BROWNING 323 Why ever make man's good distinct from God's? Or finding they are one, why dare mistrust ? Paracelsus. — R. B. November 6th. Dear and ancient trees My fathers planted and I loved so well ! . . . . Oh, nevermore for me shall winds intone With all your tops a vast antiphony, Demanding and responding in God's praise ! A Blot in the ^Scutcheon. — R. B. The night, late strewn with clouds and fly- ing stars, Is blank and motionless : how peaceful sleep The tree-tops all together ! Like an asp The wind slips whispering from bough to bough ! Ay ; you would gaze on a wind-shaken tree By the hour, nor count time lost. Paracelsiis. — R. B. 324 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS November yth. Yet here are we two; we have love, house enough, With the field there, This house of four rooms, that field red and rough, Though it yield there. For the rabbit that robs, scarce a blade or a bent ; If a magpie alight now, it seems an event ; And they both will be gone at November's rebuff. But why must cold spread? but wherefore bring change To the spirit, God meant should mate His with an infinite range, And inherit His power to put life in the darkness and cold ? Oh, live and love worthily, bear and be bold ! Whom Summer made friends of, let Winter estrange ! James Lee's Wife, — R. B. FE03f BROWNING 325 November 8th. The house is waste to-day, — The leaf has dropt from the spray, The thorn, prickt through to the song : If summer doeth no wrong The winter will, they say. Sing, Heart ! what heart replies ? In vain we were calm and wise, If the tears unkissed stand in our eyes. Howbeit all is not lost : The warm noon ends in frost. The worldly tongues of promise. Like sheep-bells, die off from us On the desert hills cloud -crossed ! Yet through the silence shall Pierce the death-angel's call. And ''come up hither," recover all. Heart, wilt thou go ? ''I go! Broken hearts triumph so." Calls on the Heai-t.—E. B. B. 326 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS November gth. Not on the vulgar mass Called *' work," must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price ; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice. But all, the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main account ; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure. That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount. Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act. Fancies that broke through language and escaped ; FROM BROWNING 327 All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped. Rahbi Ben Ezra. — K. B. November loth. "In his opinion, my case is desperate." **But I tell you that it is not. Nobody's case is desperate when the will is not at fault. And a woman's will when she wills thor- oughly as I hope you do, is strong enough to overcome. When I hear people say that circumstances are against them I always re- tort, . . . you mean that your will is not with you f I believe in the will, I have faith in it." — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1399, by Harper & Brothers. A woman's will dies hard, in the hall or on the sward. Rhyme of the Duchess May.—E. B. B. 328 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS My will runneth as my blood. IMd. November nth. Nothing worth keeping is ever lost in this world : look at a blossom — it drops presently, having done its service and lasted its time ; but fruits succeed, and where would be the blossom's place could it continue? As well affirm that your eye is no longer in your body, because its earliest favorite, whatever it may have first loved to look on, is dead and done with — as that any affection is lost to the soul when its first object, whatever happened first to satisfy it, is superseded in due course. Keep but ever looking, whether with the body's eye or the mind's, and you will soon find something to look on ! Has a man done wondering at women ? — there follow men, dead and alive, to wonder at. Has he done wondering at men ? — there's God to wonder at. Plppa Passes. — R. B. FROM BROWNING 329 November 12th. The fox-dam, hunger-pined, will slay the felon sire Who dares assault her whelp: the beaver, stretched on fire, Will die without a groan : no pang avails to wrest Her young from where they hide — her sanc- tuary breast. What's here then? Answer me, thou dead one, as, I trow. Standing at God's own bar. He bids thee answer now ! Thrice crowned wast thou — each crown of pride, a child — thy charge ! Where are they ? Lost ? Enough : no need that thou enlarge On how or why the loss : life left to utter "lost" Condemns itself beyond appeal. The sol- dier's post Guards from the foe's attack the camp he sentinels : 330 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS That he no traitor proved, this and this only tells — Over the corpse of him trod foe to foe's success. Ivdbn Ivanovitch, — R. B. But if I die here alone, then I die, whom am but one And die nobly for them all. Ehyme of the Duchess May.—E. B. B. November ijth. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn evenings come : And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue ? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life's November too ! Oh, the sense of the yellow mountain-flowers, And thorny balls, each three in one. The chestnuts throw on our path in showers ! For the drop of the woodland fruit's begun, These early November hours. FROM BROWNING 331 For my heart had a touch of the woodland- time, Wanting to sleep now over its best. Shake the whole tree in the summer-prime, But bring to the last leaf no such test ! " Hold the last fast ! " runs the rhyme. By the Fireside. — R. B. November 14th. A death-heat is The same as life-heat, to be accurate ; And in all nature is no death at all. As men account of death, as long as God Stands witnessing for life perpetually, By being just God. That's abstract truth, I know. Philosophy, or sympathy with God : But I, I sympathize with man. And when I stand beside a dying bed, It's death to me. Observe, — it had not much Consoled the race of mastodons to know Before they went to fossil, that anon 332 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Their place would quicken with the ele- phant ; They were not elephants, but mastodons : And I, a man, as men are now and not As men may be hereafter, feel with men In the agonizing present. Av/rora Leigh. — E. B. B. November i^th. I do believe a brother's love For a sole sister must exceed them all. For see now, only see ! there's no alloy Of earth that creeps into the perfectest gold Of other loves — no gratitude to claim ; You never gave her life, not even aught That keeps life — never tended her, instructed, Enriched her — so your love can claim no right O'er her save pure love's claim : that's what I call Freedom from earthliness. You'll never hope To be such friends, for instance, she and you, FROM BROWNING 333 As when you hunted cowslips in the woods Or played together in the meadow hay. Oh yes — with age, respect comes, and your worth Is felt, there's growing sympathy of tastes, There's ripened friendship, there's confirmed esteem : — Much head these make against the new comer ! . . • . I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds All the world's love in its unworldliness. A Blot in the ^ Scutcheon— K. B. November i6th. For she will not fleck World's sunshine with a finger. Sympathy Must call her in Love's name ! and then, I know, She rises up, and brightens as she should, And lights her smile for comfort, and is slow In nothing of high-hearted fortitude. 2\uo Sketches.— 'E. B. B. 334 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Never one So sweet and true, and pure and beautiful. TJie Ring and the Book. — R. B. Calm she lifts her trusting face, and calleth upon God. The Young Queen, — E. B. B. November lyth. Men who might Do greatly in a universe that breaks And burns, must ever kiiow before they do. Courage and patience are but sacrifice ; A sacrifice is offered for and to Something conceived of. Each man pays a price For what himself counts precious, whether true Or false the appreciation it implies. But here, — no knowledge, no conception, nought ! Desire was absent, that provides great deeds From out the greatness of prevenient thought : And action, action, like a flame that needs FROM BROWNING 335 A steady breath and fuel, being caught Up, like a burning reed from other reeds, Flashed in the empty and uncertain air. Then wavered, then went out. Behold, who blames A crooked course, when not a goal is there ? . . . . An ignorance of means may minister To greatness, but an ignorance of aims Makes it impossible to be great at all. Casa Guidi Windows, — E. B. B. November i8th. And yet He has made dark things To be glad and merry as light. There's a little dark bird, sits and sings; There's a dark stream ripples out of sight ; And the dark frogs chant in the safe morass, And the sweetest stars are made to pass O'er the face of the darkest night. The Runaway Slave. — E. B. B. Why the poorest brown butterfly will seek out a brown stone in a gravel walk, or brown 336 BEAUTIFUL TB OUGHTS leaf in a flower-bed, to settle on and be happy. — From I'he Letters of Robert Browning and Eliza- beth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. November igth. As I dare approach that Heaven Which has not bade a living thing despair, Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain, But bids the vilest worm that turns on it Desist and be forgiven, — I forgive not, But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls ! A Blot in the ^Scutcheon. — R. B. And, so, pity us, Ye gentle Spirits, and pardon him and me. And let some tender peace, made of our pain, Grow up betwixt us, as a tree might grow With boughs on both sides. In the shade oi which. FROM BBOWNINQ 337 When presently ye shall behold us dead, — For the poor sake of our humility, Breathe out your pardon on our breathless lips. A Drama of Exile.— ^. B. B. November 20th. I have too much indifference to the opin- ions of Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown — by no means anxious to have his notions agree with mine. Smith thinks Cromwell a canting villain, — Brown beheves no dissenter can be saved, — and I repeat Goethe's **Be it your unerring rule, ne'er to contradict a fool, for if folly choose to brave you, all your wis- dom cannot save you ! " — From The Letters of Robert Broivning and Eliz- abeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothel's. First you deliver your phrase — Nothing profound, that I see, Fit in itself for much blame or much praise — Answered no less, where no answer needs be: 338 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS One says his say with a difference ; More of expounding, explaining ; All is now wrangle, abuse, vociferance ; Now there's a truce, all's subdued, self-re- straining : Five, though, stands out all the stiffer hence. Master Hugues of Saxa-Gotha. — R. B. November 21st. Which is the weakest thing of all Mine heart can ponder ? The sun, a little cloud can pall With darkness yonder ? The cloud, a little wind can move Where'er it listeth ? The wind, a little leaf above. Though sere, resisteth ? What time that yellow leaf was green, My days were gladder ; But now, whatever Spring may mean, I must grow sadder. FROM BROWNING 339 Ah me ! a leaf with sighs can wring My lips asunder — Then is mine heart the weakest thing Itself can ponder. The Weakest Thing E. B. B. November 22d. We shall march prospering, — not through his presence ; Songs may inspirit us, — not from his lyre ; Deeds will be done, — while he boasts his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire : Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more footpath untrod, One more devil' s-triumph and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God ! Life's night begins : let him never come back to us ! 340 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS There would be doubt, hesitation and pain, Forced praise on our part — the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again ! Best fight on well, for we taught him — strike gallantly, Menace our heart ere we master his own ; Then let him receive the new knowledge ana wait us. Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne ! The Lost Leader.— ^. B. November 2jd. Just is he, Who is just for the popular due As well as the private debt. The praise of nations ready to perish Fall on him, — crown him in view Of tyrants caught in the net, And statesmen dizzy with fear and doubt ! And though, because they are many, And he is merely one, And nations selfish and cruel Heap up the inquisitor's fuel^ FBOM BROWNING 341 To kill the body of high intents, And burn great deeds from their place, . . . . Courage, whoever circumvents ! Courage, courage, whoever is base ! The soul of a high intent, be it known. Can no more die than any soul Which God keeps by Him under the throne. Napoleon III. in Italy. — E. B. B. November 24th. Can a voice so low and soft Take open actual part With Right, — maintain aloft Pure truth in life or art, Vexed always, wounded oft ? Where's Agnes ?— E. B. B. She never found fault with you, never implied Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town The children were gladder that pulled at her gown. 342 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude, She took as she found them, and did them all good ; It was always so with her. My KaU.—E. B. B. November 2^th. Evil is in its nature loud, while good Is silent. Pippa Passes. — R. B. If one built a palace without noise and confusion and the stroke of hammers, one would scarcely get credit for it in this world ... so full of virtue and admiration it is, to make a noise ! — From The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers. Central peace, mother of strength, That's father of . . . nay, go yourself that length, Ask those calm-hearted doers what they do When they have got their calm ? Sordello.—K. B. FR03I BROWNING 343 November 26th. Of earth the weak, Made and unmade, Where men that faint, do strive for crowns that fade ? Where, having won the profit which they seek, They He beside the sceptre and the gold With fleshless hands that cannot wield or hold, And the stars shine in their unwinking eyes ? The Seraphim.— E. B. B. O earth, so full of dreary noises ! O men, with wailing in your voices ! O delved gold, the wallers heap ! O strife, O curse that o'er it fall ! God strikes a silence through you all, And " giveth His beloved, sleep." The Sleep.— E. B. B. November 2yth, And thus I know this earth is not my sphere, For I cannot so narrow me, but that I still exceed it. Pauline. — R. B. 344 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS O God ! where does this tend — these strug- gling aims ! What would I have? what is this "sleep," which seems To bound all? can there be a "waking" point Of crowning life? The soul would never rule — It would be first in all things — it would have Its utmost pleasure filled, — but that com- plete Commanding for commanding sickens it. The last point that I can trace is, rest beneath Some better essence than itself — in weak- ness; This is " myself" — not what I think should be. And what is that I hunger for but God ? lUd, FROM BROWNING 345 November 28th. Sorrow how avoid ? Let the employer match the thing employed, Fit to the finite his infinity, And thus proceed forever, in degree Changed but in kind the same, still limited To the appointed circumstance and dead To all beyond. A sphere is but a sphere ; Small, Great, are merely terms we bandy here ; Since to the spirit's absoluteness all Are like. Now, of the present sphere we call Life, are conditions ; take but this among Many ; the body was to be so long Youthful, no longer ; but, since no control Tied to that body's purposes his soul, She chose to understand the body's trade More than the body's self — had fain conveyed Her boundless to the body's bounded lot. Hence, the soul permanent, the body not, — Scarcely its minute for enjoying here, — The soul must needs instruct her weak com- peer. Sordello.—K. B. 346 BEAUTIFUL THOUGETS November 2gth. O Earth, I count the praises thou art worth, By thy waves that move aloud, By thy hills against the cloud, By thy valleys warm and green, By thy copses' elms between ; By thy silver founts that fall. As if to entice the stars at night To thine heart ; by grass and rush, And little weeds the children pull, Mistook for flowers ! Earth, we Christians praise thee thus. Even for the change that comes, With a grief, from thee to us ! For thy cradles and thy tombs : For the pleasant corn and wine. And summer heat ; and also for The frost upon the sycamore. And hail upon the vine ! Earth and Her Fraisers. — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 347 November joth. Go back to the beginning, — the first fact We're taught is, there's a world beside this world, With spirits, not mankind, for tenantry ; That much within that world once sojourned here, That all upon this world will visit there, And therefore that we, bodily h*ere below, Must have exactly such an interest In learning what may be the ways o* the world Above us, as the disembodied folk Have (by all analogic likehhood) In watching how things go in the old world With us, their sons, successors, and what not. Oh, yes, with added powers probably. Fit for the novel state, — old loves grown pure. Old interests understood aright, — they watch ! Eyes to see, ears to hear, and hands to help. Proportionate to advancement : they're ahead. That's all — do what we do, but noblier done. Mr. Sludge, " The Medium.'^— R. B. DECEMBER. December ist. Mountain gorses, ever golden ! Cankered not the whole year long ! Do you teach us to be strong, Howsoever pricked and holden Like your thorny blooms, and so Trodden on by rain and snow Up the hillside of this life, as bleak as where ye grow ? Mountain blossoms, shining blossoms ! Do ye teach us to be glad When no summer can be had, Blooming in our inward bosoms ? Ye, whom God preserveth still, Set as lights upon a hill Tokens to the wintry earth that Beauty liveth still ! Lessons from the Gorse. — E. B. B. 352 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 2d. . . , . crying from the top of souls, To souls, that here assembled on earth's flats, To get them to some purer eminence Than any hitherto beheld for clouds ! What height we know not, — but the way we know, And how by mounting ever, we attain. And so climb on. It is the hour for souls ; That bodies, leavened by the will and love. Be lightened to redemption. The world's old; But the old world waits the time to be re- newed : Toward which, new hearts in individual growth Must quicken, and increase to multitude In new dynasties of the race of men, — Developed whence, shall grow spontaneously New churches, new economies, new laws Admitting freedom, new societies Excluding falsehood. He shall make all new. Aurora Leigh, — E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 353 December ^d. . . . . read my books, Without considering whether they were fit To do me good. Mark, there. We get no good By being ungenerous, even to a book, And calculating profits ... so much help By so much reading. It is rather when We gloriously forget ourselves and plunge Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's pro- found, Impassioned for its beauty and salt of truth — 'Tis then we get the right good from a book. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. The world of books is still the world, I write, And both worlds have God's providence, thank God, To keep and hearten : with some struggle, indeed. Among the breakers, some hard swimming through 354 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS The deeps . . . and being dashed From error on to error, every turn Still brought me nearer to the central truth. Ihid. December 4th. Trouble's a bad word. Fippa Passes. — R. B. Dear, be happy. Sing your songs, If that's your way ! but sometimes slumber too, Nor tire with too much following, out of breath, The rhymes upon your mountains of Delight. Reflect, if Art be in truth the higher life. You need the lower life to stand upon In order to reach up unto that higher : And none can stand a-tiptoe in the place He cannot stand in with two stable feet. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. There's a world of capability For joy, spread round about us, meant for us, Inviting us. Cfeon.— R. B. FROM BROWNING 355 December ^th. It takes but little water just to touch At some one point the inside of a sphere, And, as we turn the sphere, touch all the rest In due succession : but the finer air Which not so palpably nor obviously, Though no less universally, can touch The whole circumference of that emptied sphere, Fills it more fully than the water did ; Holds thrice the weight of water in itself Resolved into a subtler element. And yet the vulgar call the sphere first full Up to the visible height — and after, void ; Not knowing air's more hidden properties. And thus our soul, misknown, cries out to Zeus To vindicate his purpose in our life : Why stay we on the earth unless to grow ? Cleon: "^ As certain also of your own poets have said."— R. B. 356 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 6th. We have creatures there, which if you saw The first time, you would doubtless marvel at For their surpassing beauty, craft and strength. And though it were a lively moment's shock Wherein you found the purpose of forked tongues That seemed innocuous in their lambent play. Yet, once made known such grace requires such guard. Your reason soon would acquiesce, I think, In wisdom which made all things for the best — So, take them, good with ill, contentedly, The prominent beauty with the latent sting. Luria. — R. B. *' As Hke as a Hand to another Hand ! " Whoever said that foolish thing. Could not have studied to understand The counsels of God in fashioning. Jamea Lee^s Wife, — R. B. FEOM BROWNING 357 December yth. What is this thought or thing Which I call beauty? is it thought or thing ? Is it a thought accepted for a thing? Or both ? or neither ? — a pretext ? — a word ? Its meaning flutters in me like a flame Under my own breath : my perceptions reel Forevermore around it and fall off, As if it were too holy. Which it is. The essence of all beauty I call love. The attribute, the evidence, and end. The consummation to the inward sense, Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love. As form, when colorless, Is nothing to the eye ; that pine-tree there, Without its black and green, being all a blank ; So, without love, is beauty undiscerned In man or angel. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. 358 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 8th. As I walk There's springing and melody and giddiness, And old quaint turns and passages of my youth — Dreams long forgotten, little in themselves — Return to me — whatever may amuse me, And earth seems in a truce with me, and heaven Accords with me, all things suspend their strife. Pippa Passes. — R. B. Earth fades. Heaven dawns on me. ... I shall wake next Before God's throne : the moment's close at hand When Man the first, last time, has leave to lay His whole heart bare before his Maker — leave To clear up the long error of a life And choose one happiness forevermore. Strafford.— R. B. FB03I BROWNING 359 December gth. Over the ball of it, Peering and prying, How I see all of it Life there, outlying ! Roughness and smoothness, Shine and defilement, Grace and uncouthness; One reconcilement. Orbed as appointed, Sister with brother Joins, ne'er disjointed One from the other. All's lend-and-borrow ; Good, see, wants evil, Joy demands sorrow. Angel weds devil ! "Which things must — why be? " Vain our endeavor ! So shall things aye be As they were ever. 360 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS *' Such things should ^^ be ! " Sage our desistence ! Rough-smooth let globe be, Mixed — man's existence ! Man — wise and foolish, Lover and scorner, Docile and mulish — Keep each his corner ! Honey yet gall of it ! There's the life lying. And I see all of it, Only, I'm dying ! Pisgah-Sights. — R. B. December loth. Well. 'Tis a strange thing : I am dying, Festus, And now that fast the storm of life subsides, I first perceive how great the whirl has been. I was calm then, who am so dizzy now — Calm in the thick of tempest, but no less A partner in its motion and mixed up With its career. The hurricane is spent, FROM BROWNING 361 -vnd the good boat speeds through the brightening weather ; But is it earth or sea that heaves below ? The gulf rolls like a meadow-swell, o'er- strewn With ravaged boughs and remnants of the shore ; . . . . Even so my varied life Drifts by me ; I am young, old, happy, sad. Hoping, desponding, acting, taking rest. And all at once : that is, those past con- ditions Float back at once on me. Paracelsus. — R. B. December nth. And this is death : I understand it all. New being waits me ; new perceptions must Be born in me before I plunge therein ; Which last is Death's affair ; and while I speak. Minute by minute he is filling me With power ; and while my foot is on the threshold 362 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Of boundless life — the doors unopened yet, All preparations not complete within — I turn new knowledge upon old events, And the effect is . . . but I must not tell; It is not lawful. Your own turn will come One day. Wait, Festus ! You will die like me. Paracelma. — R. B. Strange secrets are let out by Death, Who blabs so oft the follies of this world. lUd. December 12th. Robert Browning died December, 12th, 1889. God shall take thee to His breast, dear spirit, Unto his breast, be sure ! and here on earth Shall splendor sit upon thy name forever. Paracelsus^ — R. B. FROM BROWNING 363 And then, the last song When the dead man is praised on his journey — " Bear, bear him along, With his few faults shut up like dead flowerets ! " 8aul.—R. B. Meantime hold hard by truth and his great soul, Do out the duty ! Through such souls alone God stooping shows sufficient of His light For us i' the dark to rise by. The Ring and the Book, — R. B. December ijth. Fear death ? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe ; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, 364 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Yet the strong man must go : For the journey is done and the summit at- tained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last ! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore. And bade me creep past. Prospice. — R. B. December 14th. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old. Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave. The black minute's at end, FROM BROWNING 365 And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend. Shall change, shall become a peace out of pain. Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again. And with God be the rest ! Prospice. — R. B. Why, time was what I wanted, to turn o'er Within my mind each look, get more and more By heart each word, too much to learn at first. And join thee all the fitter for the pause 'Neath the low door-way's lintel. Any Wife to Any Husband. — R. B. December i^th. No more lifes, deaths, loves, hatreds, peaces, wars ! Ah, fragments of a whole ordained to be. Points in the life I waited ! what are ye 366 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS But roundels of a ladder which appeared Awhile the very platform it was reared To lift me on ? — that happiness I find Proofs of my faith in, even in the blind Instinct which bade forego you all unless Ye led me past yourselves. Ay, happiness Awaited me ; the way life should be used Was to acquire, and deeds like you conduced To teach it by a self-revealment, deemed Life's very use, so long ! Whatever seemed Progress to that, was pleasure ; aught that stayed My reaching it — no pleasure. I have laid The ladder down ; I climb not ; still, aloft, The platform stretches ! Sordello.—R. B. December i6th. 'Twas an ill prayer : it shall be prayed no more; And God did use it like a foolishness. Giving no answer. Now my heart has grown Too high and strong for such a foolish prayer. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 367 God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in't. Every wish Is hke a prayer . . . with God. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. A child may say amen To a bishop's prayer and feel the way it goes. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. December lyth. Shghts, scorns, neglects, were heaped on you to bear : And ever you did bear and bow the head ! It had been sorry trial, to precede Your feet, hold up the promise of reward For luring gleam ; your footsteps kept the track Through dark and doubt : take all the light at once ! Well have you served, as well henceforth com- mand ! Lima, — R. B. 368 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS Take all the experiences of all the world, Each knowledge that broke through a heart to life, Each reasoning which, to reach, burnt out a brain, . . . . and when the fresh heart breaks. The new brain proves a ruin, what of them r What is the matter of one moth the more Singed in the candle, at a summer's end? Luria. — R. B, December i8th. The only teachers who instruct mankind, . . . . To find man's veritable stature out. Erect, sublime, — the measure of a man. And that's the measure of an angel, says The apostle. Ay, and while your common men Lay telegraphs, guage railroads, reign, reap, dine, And dust the flaunty carpets of the world For kings to walk on, or our president, The poet suddenly will catch them up FROM BROWNING 369 With his voice like a thunder. . . . "This is soul, This is life, this word is being said in heaven, Here's God down on us ! what are you about?" How all those workers start amid their work, Look round, look up, and feel, a moment's space, That carpet-dusting, though a pretty trade. Is not the imperative labor after all. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. December igth. I do but stand and think. Across the waters of a troubled life The Flower of Heaven so vainly overhangs, What perfect counterpart would be in sight, If tanks were cleaner. Let us cleanse the tubes. And wait for rains. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. 370 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS In your patience ye are strong; cold and heat ye take not wrong : When the trumpet of the angel blows eter- nity's evangel, Time will seem to you not long. The Rhyme of the Duchess May. — E. B. B. Step out grandly to the infinite From the dark edges of the sensual ground ! The SouVs Expression.— E. B. B. December 20th. In prayers, that upward mount Like to a fair-sunned fount Which, in gushing back upon you, Hath an upper music won you. In hope that apprehends An end beyond these ends : And great uses rendered duly By the meanest song sung truly ! For life, so lovely- vain, For death, which breaks the chain, — For this sense of present sweetness, — And this yearning to completeness ! FB03I BROWNING 371 For sights of things away, Through fissures of the clay, Promised things which shall be given And sung over, up in Heaven, — A Lay of the Early Rose. — E. B. B. Decemebr 21st There's heaven above, and night by night I look right through its gorgeous roof ; No suns and moons though e'er so bright Avail to stop me \ splendor-proof I keep the broods of stars aloof: For I intend to get to God, For 'tis to God I speed so fast, For in God's breast, my own abode. Those shoals of dazzling glory, passed, I lay my spirit down at last. I lie where I have always lain, God smiles as He has always smiled ; Ere suns and moons could wax and wane, Ere stars were thundergirt, or piled The heavens, God thought on me, His child. Johannes Agricola in Meditation. — R. B. 372 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 22d. Can I teach thee, my beloved, — can I teach thee? If I said, Go left or right, The counsel would be light. The wisdom poor of all that could enrich thee ! My right would show like left ; My raising would depress thee, My choice of light would blind thee, Of way, would leave behind thee, Of end, would leave bereft ! Alas ! I can but bless thee — May God teach thee, my beloved, — may God teach thee ! Can I bless thee, my beloved, — can I bless thee ? What blessing word can I, From mine own tears keep dry ? What flowers grow in my field wherewith to dress thee? FBOM BROWNING 373 Alas ! I can but love thee ! May God bless thee, my beloved, — may God bless thee ! A Valediction, — E. B. B. December 2^d. How could I think it right. Newcomer on our earth as. Sweet, thou art. To bring a verse from out a human heart Made heavy with accumulated tears, And cross with such amount of weary years The day-sum of delight ? Therefore no song of mine ! But prayer in place of singing ! prayer that would Commend thee to the new-creating God, Whose gift in childhood's heart without its stain Of weakness, ignorance and changing vain — That gift of God be thine ! A Song Against Singing. — E. B. B. 374 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 24th. Have I been sure, this Christmas-Eve, God's own hand did the rainbow weave. Whereby the truth from heaven slid Into my soul ? Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day. — R. B, I bring thee the gifts of the time ; Red, for the patriot's blood. Green, for the martyr's crown, White, for the dew and the rime, When the morning of God comes down. Christmas Gifts.— E. B. B. Using heaven's own tune in hymning. While deep response from earth's own mountains ran, "Peace upon earth — ^good will to man." " Glory to God ! '-—I said Amen afar. The Seraphim.— E. B. B. December 2^th. I . . . only heard the song " Peace upon earth," saw nothing but the face O' the Holy Infant and the halo there. 21ie Ring and the Book,—R. B. FEOM BROWNING 375 O Magi of the east and of the west, Your incense, gold and myrrh are excel- lent.— What gifts for Christ, then, bring ye with the rest? Your hands have worked well. Is your courage spent In handwork only? Have you nothing best. Which generous souls may perfect and present. And He shall thank the givers for ? Casa Guidi Windows. — E. B. B. And here is the star we sought, To show us where Christ was born ! Christmas Gifts.— E. B. B. December 26th. Through all the Angel-song Shall penetrate one weak and quivering prayer. Straford.—R. B. 376 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS She so had prayed : and God, who hears Through seraph-songs the sound of tears. . . . hobeVs Child.— E. B. B. Are crowns yet to be won, in this late trial. Which weakness makes me hesitate to reach ? 'Tis God's voice calls, how could I stay? Pippa Passes. — R. B. December 2yth. Earth breaks up, time drops away. In flows heaven, with its new day Of endless life, when He who trod, Very man and very God, This earth in weakness, shame and pain, Dying the death whose signs remain Up yonder on the accursed tree, — Shall come again, no more to be Of captivity the thrall, But the one God, All in all. King of kings. Lord of lords. As His servant John received the words, '* I died, and live forevermore ! " Christmas Ece and Easter-Day. — R. B, FROM BROWNING 377 was B. And if you weep still, weep where John laid While Jesus loved him. Aurora Leigh, — E. B. December 28th. A man on earth He wandered once, All meek and undefiled : And those who loved Him said '' He wept, — ' None ever said '' He smiled ; " Yet there might have been a smile unseen, When He bowed His blessed face, I ween, To bless that happy child. The PoeVs Vow.—E. B. B. Babes ! Love could always see and hear Behind the cloud that hid them : • *'Let httle children come to Me, And do not thou forbid them." So, unforbidding, we have met. And gently here have laid her ; Though winter is no time to get The flowers that should o'erspread her. A Child's Ch'ave at Florence. — E. B. B. 378 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December 2^th. Poets singing sweetest snatches, While that deaf men keep the watches Vaunting to come before Our own age evermore, In a loneness, in a loneness, And the nobler for that oneness ! Holy in voice and heart, To high ends set apart ! All unmated, all unmated, Just because so consecrated. But if alone we be, Where is our empery ? And if none can reach our statue, Who can mete our lofty nature ? What angel, but would seem To sensual eyes, ghost-dim ? And without assimilation, Vain is inter-penetration. A Lay of the Early Bose.—E. B. B. FROM BROWNING 379 December }oth. Be content To minister with voluntary grace And melancholy pardon, every rite And function in you, to the human hand. Be ye to man as angels are to God, Servants in pleasure, singers of delight, Suggesters to his soul of higher things Than any of your highest. So at last. He shall look round on you with lids too straight To hold the grateful tears, and thank you well; And bless you when he prays his secret prayers. And praise you when he sings his open songs For the clear song-note he has learnt in you Of purifying sweetness ; and extend Across your head his golden fantasies Which glorify you into soul from sense ! Go serve him for such price. A Drama of Exile.— E. B. B. 380 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS December jist. Robert Browning buried in Poets' Corner, West- minster Abbey, on Dec. 31st, 1889. Sun-treader — life and light be thine forever; Thou art gone from us — years go by — and spring Gladdens, and the young earth is beautiful, Yet thy songs come not — other bards arise, But none like thee — they stand — thy maj- esties. Like mighty works which tell some Spirit there Hath sat regardless of neglect and scorn. Till, its long task completed, it hath risen And left us, never to return : and all Rush in to peer and praise when all is vain. The air seems bright with thy past presence yet. Pmdine.—^. B. The great escapings of ecstatic souls, Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame. Their radiant faces upward, burn away This dark of the body, issuing on a world Beyond our mortal. Aurora Leigh. — E. B. B. Beautiful Thoughts: Selections for Every T> ay from the writings of the Best Authors Handsomely bound in colored cloths, gold stamp and photo- gravure of author inlaid on cover. 75 cents per volume. WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE se- lections arranged by Elizabeth Cure- ton, HENRY DRUMMOND selections arranged by Elizabeth Cureton. GEORGE MacDONALD selec^^"- CHARLES KINGSLEY selections arranged by P, W. Wilson, BULWER-LYTTON selections arranged by P. W, Wilson. ROBERT and ELIZABETH BROWNING selections arranged by Margaret Shipp, THOMAS CARLYLE selections arranged by P. W. Wilson, JAMES POTT & CO. I19-121 West 23d St., New York SEP 1 1900 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: March 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 U3 Ul ru LT)