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175
XXIX.
SEMPRE LO STESSO.
Ever the same!—let this our watchword beUpon the dreary battlements of time,
With a clear soul I breathe it unto thee
In tones whose fervor mocks this idle rhyme;
Ever the same;—how sweet to earn with pain
The tested love that casteth out all fear,
And amid all we suffer, doubt and feign,
To own one true and self-absorbing sphere!
Ever the same;—as moons the waters draw,
A simple presence calms all inward strife,
And, by the sway of some benignant law,
With high completeness fills the sense of life:
The Holy One this sacred thought confest
When leaning on his fond disciple's breast.
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