ONLY A CURL. So will our joys and grief appear, Grief will be joy if on its edge Joy will be grief if no faint pledge ONLY A CURL. MRS. BROWNING. FRIENDS of faces unknown, and a land Who tell me how lonely you stand While you ask me to ponder and say Shall I speak like a poet, or run Into weak woman's tears for relief? 305 306 ONLY A CURL. And I feel what it must be and is, And the rapture of light you forego; How you think, staring on at the door For the dark of your sorrow and sin. “God lent him and takes him,” you sigh. He gives what he gives: I appeal To all who bear babes; in the hour The motherhood's advent in power, And the babe cries! — has each of us known By apocalypse (God being there Full in nature) the child is our own, Life of life, love of love, moan of moan, Through all changes, all times, everywhere. He's ours, and forever. Believe, O father! O mother, look back To the first love's assurance! To give ONLY A CURL. Means, with God, not to tempt or deceive, He gives what he gives. Be content! And scourged away all those impure. He lends not, but gives to the end, And finish it up to your dream, Or keep, as a mother will, toys Too costly, though given by herself, Till the room shall be stiller from noise, And the children more fit for such joys, Kept over their heads on the shelf. So look up, friends! you who indeed 307 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 You know how one angel smiles there, - To be drawn by a single gold hair 308 DOUGLAS, TENDER AND TRUE. DOUGLAS, DOUGLAS, TENDER AND TRUE. DINAH MARIA MULOCK. "Dowglas, Dowglas, tendir and treu." COULD ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas, Never a scornful word should grieve ye, O to call back the days that are not! My eyes were blinded, your words were few; Do you know the truth now up in heaven, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true? I never was worthy of you, Douglas, Now all men beside seem to me like shadows - Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas, Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew, As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true. RING OUT, WILD BELLS. 309 RING OUT, WILD BELLS. TENNYSON. RING out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The year Ring out the old, ring in the new Ring out the grief that saps the mind, Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin, Ring out false pride in place and blood, |