with him along the road of life. Often letters came from friends in
other lands, known to him only by that wireless intuitional telegraphy
whereby kindred souls know each other, though hands have not met nor
eyes looked into eyes. Many might voice the thought expressed by one:
"I may boast that Paul Hayne was my friend, though it was never my
good fortune to meet him." Many a soul was upheld and strengthened by
him, as was that of a man who wrote that he had been saved from
suicide by reading the "Lyric of Action." His album held autographed
photographs of many writers, among them Charles Kingsley, William
Black, and Wilkie Collins. He cherished an ivy vine sent him by
Blackmore from Westminister Abbey.

Hayne's many-windowed mind looked out upon all the phases of the
beauty of Nature. Her varied moods found in him a loving response. He
awaited her coming as the devotee at the temple gate waits for the
approach of his Divinity:

I felt, through dim, awe-laden space,
The coming of thy veiled face;
And in the fragrant night's eclipse
The kisses of thy deathless lips,
Like strange star-pulses, throbbed through space!

Whether it is drear November and

But winds foreboding fill the desolate night
And die at dawning down wild woodland ways,

or in May "couched in cool shadow" he hears