Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell,
Oblivion in a hated brewage found!

For I mean, now a Being of the Morn
Has shed across my night excelling rays
Of love at once immortal and newborn,--
By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace,

I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand,
Wherein mine trembles,--led, sweet eyes, by you,
To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land
Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew.

Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight,
Patient of all, unanxious of the goal,
Void of all envy, violence, or hate
It shall be duty done with cheerful soul.

And as I may, to lighten the long way,
Go singing airs ingenuous and brave,
She'll listen to me graciously, I say,--
And, verily, no other heaven I crave.



[Illustration: "Avant Que Tu T'en Ailles."]


BEFORE YOUR LIGHT QUITE FAIL