VIII
“Ashamed of tolerance, but more ashamed
Of hot intolerance; who hold the snare
Less perilous when fraudulently named;
Forgetting folly, while remembering care;
Who shun the sinner with averted eyes;
Mistrust the impulse, danger in its breath;
Who think truth wholly truth, lies wholly lies;
Who never lived, but duly wept at death;
Who could not gaily stake the cherished whole
Upon the spinning coin’s fantastic turn;
Who count the moneyed value of your soul,
And give, but, giving, claim the just return.
IX
“I’ll dip contempt’s broad ladle for a measure
Lest I accept reprieve in such a guise,
Such cheap attainment where I most despise,
Or lull disquiet by such sham of pleasure.
Love, amongst counterfeits and marsh-light gleams
Already arch-impostor, doubly aped
By lust, to parody (most rarely shaped),
The consummation of our difficult dreams!”
HOME
NIGHT. To H. G. N.
MOONLIGHT through lattice throws a chequered square;
Night! and I wake in my low-ceilinged room
To lovely silence deep with harmony;
Sweet are the flutes of night-time, sweet the spell
Lies between day and day. This wise old night,
That, unreproachful, gives the pause to strife!
The murmurous diapason of the dark
Within the house made quick and intimate
By tiny noise—a bat? a mouse? a moth
Bruising against the ceiling? or a bird
Nested beneath the eaves? night, grave and huge
Outside with swell of sighing through the boughs,
Whispering far over unscythèd meadows,
Dying in dim cool cloisters of the woods.