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Madeline

With other poems and parables: By Thomas Gordon Hake

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XI. ON THE SOUL.
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187

XI. ON THE SOUL.

Suitor of Heaven, then take of earth thy fill!
Like languid waters in the path of shades,
Reverse within thy depths the hanging hill,
Beatify the harsh, the wild cascades.
Look on and listen till thy breath be gone;
Be thou the place, the place be thou, alone.
Stream and its hanging bough in whispers meet
To gather kisses from the wreaths of foam;
Clouds find out pools their fleeting forms to greet,
Or with their shadows over pastures roam.
All join thee in the strolling players' mood,
Soul of the fond, the lone old neighbourhood!

188

EPODE.

Like smoke arising from its smouldering fires,
The love of Nature draws up discontent,
And to the gangway of the clouds aspires,
As if the world to it were banishment.
To triumph and attain all earth can give
Is proper for the gifted, it is less
Than to the vulgar it may be to live.
But solitude has not the power to bless.
Then shun the love of glory, save to lift
A needy world, and give it all the gain!
Set little store on Nature's feathery gift
Lest falling it shall eddy back amain.