V.

Chanter of the Pollio, glorying

in the blissful years again to be, Summers of the snakeless meadow, unlaborious earth and oarless sea;

VI.

Thou that seëst Universal

Nature moved by Universal Mind;

Thou majestic in thy sadness

at the doubtful doom of human kind;

VII.

Light among the vanish'd ages;

star that gildest yet this phantom shore;

Golden branch amid the shadows,

kings and realms that pass to rise no more;

VIII.

Now thy Forum roars no longer,

fallen every purple Cæsar's dome

Tho' thine ocean-roll of rhythm

sound for ever of Imperial Rome

IX.

Now the Rome of slaves hath perish'd,

and the Rome of freemen holds her place,

I, from out the Northern Island

sunder'd once from all the human race,

X.

I salute thee, Mantovano,

I that loved thee since my day began,

Wielder of the stateliest measure

ever moulded by the lips of man.

HYMN.

[From Akbar's Dream.]

I.

Once again thou flamest heavenward, once again we see thee rise. Every morning is thy birthday gladdening human hearts and eyes. Every morning here we greet it, bowing lowly down before

thee,

Thee the Godlike, thee the changeless, in thine ever-changing skies.

II.

Shadow-maker, shadow-slayer, arrowing light from clime to clime, Hear thy myriad laureates hail thee monarch in their woodland rhyme.

Warbie bird, and open flower, and, men, below the dome of

azure

Kneel adoring Him the Timeless in the flame that measures Time!

GOD AND THE UNIVERSE.

I.

Will my tiny spark of being wholly vanish in your deeps and heights?

Must my day be dark by reason, O ye Heavens, of your bound

less nights,

Rush of Suns, and roll of systems, and your fiery clash of meteorites?

II.

'Spirit, nearing yon dark portal at the limit of thy human state, Fear not thou the hidden purpose of that Power which alone is

great,

Nor the myriad world, His shadow, nor the silent Opener of the

Gate.'

CROSSING THE BAR.

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crost the bar.