XIII.

Whence came the tremor,

The flush and the start?

What sent the dancing blood
Back to his heart?

He saw as if mirror'd,

That he might behold,

Phantoms of Pride and Hope,

Glory and Gold;

Phantoms that dazzled him

All his life long,

Leading him, tempting him,

Luring him wrong.

XIV.

He saw his dark scroll of life

Bared to his sight,

C

Spreading before him

In darkness or light,

All his heart's history,

All his thought's mystery;

Back through the years

To the dim distance

Of his first tears;

Back to the early days,

When a fair boy,

Spotless and artless

He carolled in joy,

Plaiting green rushes,

And gathering flowers,

Full of wild fancies

As April of showers;

Back to the happy time,

Crowned with his youth,

When his heart's visions

Were Beauty and Truth;

Back to his moonlights,

His yearnings and sighs,

When the best Heaven he sought

Lay in a maiden's thought,

Or her blue eyes;

Back to the darkness

Clouding his morn;

Darkness and discord,

And longings forlorn,

Errors and frailties

And sufferings keen,

With flashes of gladness

And glory between.

XV.

Moodily, sullenly

Watching the tide,

Still the bad angel

Stood at his side;

c 2

Black o'er his path

Fell her shadow of fear,

Angrily whispered

Her voice in his ear;

Her voice of reproaches

Too dreadful to bear.

"Look in thy heart," she said, "Fool! and despair!

Fool-that would'st live

With such guilt on thy head

Grief is for living men

He looked through the morning,

And saw thee above:

The light of thy garment's hem

Dazzled the day;

Soft through the purple air

Borne far away,

Voices ecstatic

Seemed mingling to say,

"The man shall not perish!"

Shine brighter, bright dream!

O'er his dark

memory,