With all our hearts we praise you whom ye hate, High souls that hate us; for our hopes are higher, And higher than yours the goal of our desire, Though high your ends be as your hearts are great.

Your world of G.o.ds and kings, of shrine and state, Was of the night when hope and fear stood nigher, Wherein men walked by light of stars and fire Till man by day stood equal with his fate.

Honour not hate we give you, love not fear, Last prophets of past kind, who fill the dome Of great dead G.o.ds with wrath and wail, nor hear Time's word and man's: "Go honoured hence, go home, Night's childless children; here your hour is done; Pa.s.s with the stars, and leave us with the sun."

VICTOR HUGO IN 1877

"Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?"

Above the spring-tide sundawn of the year, A sunlike star, not born of day or night, Filled the fair heaven of spring with heavenlier light, Made of all ages...o...b..d in one sole sphere Whose light was as a t.i.tan's smile or tear; Then rose a ray more flowerlike, starry white, Like a child's eye grown lovelier with delight, Sweet as a child's heart-lightening laugh to hear; And last a fire from heaven, a fiery rain As of G.o.d's wrath on the unclean cities, fell And lit the shuddering shades of half-seen h.e.l.l That shrank before it and were cloven in twain; A beacon fired by lightning, whence all time Sees red the bare black ruins of a crime.

CHILD'S SONG

What is gold worth, say, Worth for work or play, Worth to keep or pay, Hide or throw away, Hope about or fear?

What is love worth, pray?

Worth a tear?

Golden on the mould Lie the dead leaves rolled Of the wet woods old, Yellow leaves and cold, Woods without a dove; Gold is worth but gold; Love's worth love.

TRIADS

I

I

The word of the sun to the sky, The word of the wind to the sea, The word of the moon to the night, What may it be?

II

The sense to the flower of the fly, The sense of the bird to the tree, The sense to the cloud of the light, Who can tell me?

III

The song of the fields to the kye, The song of the lime to the bee, The song of the depth to the height, Who knows all three?

II

I

The message of April to May That May sends on into June And June gives out to July For birthday boon;

II

The delight of the dawn in the day, The delight of the day in the noon, The delight of a song in a sigh That breaks the tune;

III

The secret of pa.s.sing away, The cost of the change of the moon, None knows it with ear or with eye, But all will soon.

III

I

The live wave's love for the sh.o.r.e, The sh.o.r.e's for the wave as it dies, The love of the thunder-fire That sears the skies,

II

We shall know not though life wax h.o.a.r, Till all life, spent into sighs, Burn out as consumed with desire Of death's strange eyes;

III

Till the secret be secret no more In the light of one hour as it flies, Be the hour as of suns that expire Or suns that rise.

FOUR SONGS OF FOUR SEASONS

I. WINTER IN NORTHUMBERLAND

I

Outside the garden The wet skies harden; The gates are barred on The summer side: "Shut out the flower-time, Sunbeam and shower-time; Make way for our time,"

Wild winds have cried.

Green once and cheery, The woods, worn weary, Sigh as the dreary Weak sun goes home: A great wind grapples The wave, and dapples The dead green floor of the sea with foam.

II