PRELUDE.
Out of rare heart-deeps flowing,
Primer than thought-spring founts,
Upward, ’gainst vaster knowing,
Lightsome the Song-word mounts.
And athrob with some faith etern,
From Being’s deep-violed strings,
Draweth, to heaves that burn,
The advent and sooth of things.
Invokes unto Song, where the still Hopes go,
The Spirit’s immutable law.
BOER WAR LYRICS.