n the baffling plain
We thought it scattered like a ravelled skein,--
Lo, tranquil, free,
Its longed-for home, the wide unfathomable sea!

X

Thy names are like sweet flowers that grow
Within a garden where I go,
Sometimes at dawn, to see each one
Life its head proudly in the sun;
Sometimes at night,
When only by the fragrant air,
I know them there.
And none are grieved or think I slight
Their worth, if closest to my breast,
This one I take which holds within its own
Each single fragrance of the rest,--
My friend, my friend!
And as I loved it first alone,
So shall I love it to the end,
For none were half so dear were it not best.

XI

My every purpose fashioned by some thought of thee,
Though as a feather's weight that shapes the arrow's flight it be;
No single joy complete in which thou hast no fee,
Though thy share be the star and mine its shadow in the sea;
Thy very pulse my pulse, thy every prayer my prayer.
Thy love my blue o'erreaching sky that bounds me everywhere,--
Yet free, Beloved, free! for this encircling air
I cannot leave behind, doth but love's boundlessness declare.

XII

Last night the angel of remembrance brought
Me while I slept--think, Dear! of all his store
Just that one memory I thought
Banished forever from our door!
Thy sob of pain when once I hurt thee sure.
Then in my dream I suddenly was ware
Of God above me saying: "Reach
Thy hand to Me in prayer,
And I will give thee pardon yet."
Thou? Nay, she hath forgiven, teach
Her to forget.

XIII

Love me not, Dearest, for the smile,
The tender greeting, or the wile
By which, unconscious of its road,
My soul seeks thine in its abode;
Nor say "I love thee of thine eyes,--"
For when Death shuts them, where thy skies?
But love me for my love,
Then am I safe from all surprise,
And thou above
The loss of all that dies.

XIV

Dear hands, forgiving hands,
There is no speech so sure as thing.
Lips falter with so much
To tell, eyes fill with thoughts I scarce divine,
But thy least touch
Soul understands.
Dear giving, taking hands,
There are no gifts so free as thine.
One last gem from the heart of the mine,
One last cup from the veins of the vine,
From the