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Then the Dream made reply, and shadowed forth
The' unshaped Events Time embryoed--and foretold
That which in part hath chanced—the little worth

Of all the treasures I had heaped of old;
My hopes, loves, ties, aspirings---and that fond
And secret gem-I thought—aye, Fate beyond!
Wisely and solemnly it preached to me,

And bade me love, and live, and laugh my hour; "Life is,” it said, "the true Hymettus Bee,

"And culls its honey from the bitterest flower.”
And the Shape left me, and I woke---the day
Came through the lattice chillingly and grey;
And on my breast slept one-whom, as the doom
Of the dark Dream foretold--is palaced now
'Mid the dread Cities of the crowned Tomb.
She did not mark the terror on my brow;
She did not count the beatings of my heart;

And yet she clasped me: and her fond lips stirr'd And breathed sweet sounds, I taught her by Love's art, Out of Love's language--some new fairy word

Sacred to us-and by the world unheard.
But from that hour, a mystery and a change
Came o'er my nature; and my fate I felt
And armed my heart, but never could estrange
That Vision from my memory; there it dwelt,
And dwelleth--and shall dwell-until the last
Of the ghast riddles shall be solved and past!

So walk I, on the threshold of my doom;
And with a steady gaze behold afar
A dim light on my future and my tomb--
Tracking the girdling shadows by one star.
So learn I to forget the thoughts of yore,

To rise from out the lesser aims once prized,
To hold Neglect, Wrath, Hatred, and the sore
Ills of the petty Present, all despised---
To ask from man no succour and no friend,
And look through all things to one solemn end!

FINIS.

LONDON:

IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.

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