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232 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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That love which lifts the heart, yet leaves The spirit free,— That love, or none, is fit for one Man-shaped like thee.
SORROW
C
OUNT each affliction, whether light or grave, God's messenger sent down to thee; do thou With courtesy receive him; rise and bow; And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave Permission first his heavenly feet to lave; Then lay before him all thou hast: allow No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow, Or mar thy hospitality : no wave; Or mortal tumult to obliterate The soul's marmoreal calmness; grief should be —
Like joy—majestic, equable, sedate, Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free; Strong to consume small troubles; to commend Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end.
THE LITTLE BLACK ROSE
T
HE Little Black Rose1 shall be red at last; What made it black but the March wind dry, And the tear of the widow that fell on it fast ? It shall redden the hills when June is nigh !
The Silk of the Kine shall rest at last;
What drove her forth but the dragon fly? In the golden vale she shall feed full fast,
With her mild gold horn and her slow dark eye.
1 Mystical names of Ireland frequenlly occur in Gaelic poetry. |
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