And Man may her voice, in this being, obey;
And though ever he slip on the stony ground,
Yet ever again to the godlike way.
Though _her_ wisdom _our_ wisdom may not perceive,
Yet the childlike spirit can still believe.

And a GOD there is!--over Space, over Time,
While the Human Will rocks, like a reed, to and fro,
Lives the Will of the Holy--A Purpose Sublime,
A Thought woven over creation below;
Changing and shifting the All we inherit,
But changeless through all One Immutable Spirit!

Hold fast the Three Words of Belief--though about
From the lip to the lip, full of meaning they flee;
Yet they take not their birth from the being without--
But a voice from within must their oracle be;
And never all worth in the Man can be o'er,
Till in those Three Words he believes no more.

* * * * *




THE MIGHT OF SONG.


A rain-flood from the mountain-riven,
It leaps, in thunder, forth to Day,