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105
TO THE REV. STOPFORD A. BROOKE, ON HIS LEAVING THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
Now where the high hills are
And all the airs with mountain flowers are sweet,
Tread thou; the valleys yearn not for thy feet:
Their wreathed mists bar
Thy vision, in prison, from risen great gold star.
And all the airs with mountain flowers are sweet,
Tread thou; the valleys yearn not for thy feet:
Their wreathed mists bar
Thy vision, in prison, from risen great gold star.
Now where the strong streams run
Seek thou with ever more familiar tread
The utmost summits where the sun burns red,
The strong free sun,
And where in air most fair God's crowns are won.
Seek thou with ever more familiar tread
The utmost summits where the sun burns red,
The strong free sun,
And where in air most fair God's crowns are won.
106
The crowns of victors strong,
O'er pain, o'er doubt, o'er loneliness, o'er death,
Who have traversed life's lone sea with fearless breath;
But now they long,
Yearn, each, in speech to reach the victors' song.
O'er pain, o'er doubt, o'er loneliness, o'er death,
Who have traversed life's lone sea with fearless breath;
But now they long,
Yearn, each, in speech to reach the victors' song.
For the utmost tenderness
Of spirit is all the hope man can bestow:
To win from his own soul its utmost glow,—
So to redress
Some pain and strain, and gain love's white caress.
Of spirit is all the hope man can bestow:
To win from his own soul its utmost glow,—
So to redress
Some pain and strain, and gain love's white caress.
The awful utter love
Is the only gift we care for now,—to hold
Within our souls God's soul and this unfold:
All mere creeds move
Fast on the blast, are passed,—this dwells above.
Is the only gift we care for now,—to hold
Within our souls God's soul and this unfold:
All mere creeds move
Fast on the blast, are passed,—this dwells above.
107
Beyond all earthly creeds
Thou passest now to the utmost peak, O friend,
Where in love's vision all our visions blend:
Each soul that bleeds
High to this sky with sigh at length succeeds.
Thou passest now to the utmost peak, O friend,
Where in love's vision all our visions blend:
Each soul that bleeds
High to this sky with sigh at length succeeds.
With deep sigh of relief,—
Watching at last the unimprisoned stars
Now face to face and not through Church-forged bars:
Sweet even if brief
The hour when power doth shower from sun to sheaf.
Watching at last the unimprisoned stars
Now face to face and not through Church-forged bars:
Sweet even if brief
The hour when power doth shower from sun to sheaf.
The one gold autumn hour
Whose glory compensates for all the year
Of mingled pain and labour and swift fear;
When thought to flower
Springs, and the autumnal woodbine rings life's bower.
Whose glory compensates for all the year
Of mingled pain and labour and swift fear;
When thought to flower
Springs, and the autumnal woodbine rings life's bower.
108
To pour our souls away
In utter selfless love; this joy alone
Sets the divine sweet soul on God's pure throne:
This in our day
We yearn and burn to compass, as we may.
In utter selfless love; this joy alone
Sets the divine sweet soul on God's pure throne:
This in our day
We yearn and burn to compass, as we may.
August 22, 1880.
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