4 THE GOOD SHEPHERD WITH THE KID He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save. So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side Of that unpitying Phrygian sect which cried: "Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave, Who sins, once wash'd by the baptismal wave." So spake the fierce Tertullian. But she The infant Church! of love she felt the tide Stream on her from her Lord's yet recent grave. And then she smiled; and in the Catacombs, With eye suffused but heart inspired true, On those walls subterranean, where she hid Her head 'mid ignominy, death, and tombs, She her Good Shepherd's hasty image drew And on his shoulders, not a lamb, a kid. 1867. Matthew Arnold. THE HOUSE OF LIFE IV. LOVESIGHT WHEN do I see thee most, beloved one? Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,) O love, my love! if I no more should see The ground-whirl of the perished leaves of The wind of Death's imperishable wing? By what word's power, the key of paths untrod, Shall I the difficult deeps of Love explore, Till parted waves of Song yield up the shore Even as that sea which Israel crossed dryshod? For lo! in some poor rhythmic period, Lady, I fain would tell how evermore Thy soul I know not from thy body, nor Thee from myself, neither our love from God. Yea, in God's name, and Love's, and thine. would I Draw from one loving heart such evidence Tender as dawn's first hill-fire, and intense In Spring's birth-hour, of other Springs gone by. 1881. XII. THE LOVERS' WALK SWEET twining hedgeflowers wind-stirred in no wise On this June day; and hand that clings in hand: Still glades; and meeting faces scarcely fann'd: An osier-odored stream that draws the skies Deep to its heart; and mirrored eyes in eyes:Fresh hourly wonder o'er the Summer land Of light and cloud; and two souls softly spann'd With one o'erarching heaven of smiles and sighs : Even such their path, whose bodies lean unto Each other's visible sweetness amorously,Whose passionate hearts lean by Love's high decree Together on his heart for ever true, As the cloud-foaming firmamental blue 1881. XIX. SILENT NOON YOUR hands lie open in the long fresh grass,― blooms: Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms 'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass. All round our nest, far as the eye can pass, Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn hedge. 'T is visible silence, still as the hour-glass. Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky :So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above. Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower, This close-companioned inarticulate hour When twofold silence was the song of love. 1881. XXVII. HEART'S COMPASS SOMETIMES thou seem'st not as thyself alone, Even such love is; and is not thy name Love? Yea, by thy hand the Love-god rends apart All gathering clouds of Night's ambiguous art; Flings them far down, and sets thine eyes above; And simply, as some gage of flower or glove, Stakes with a smile the world against thy heart. 1881. XXXI. HER GIFTS HIGH grace, the dower of queens; and therewithal Some wood-born wonder's sweet simplicity; A glance like water brimming with the sky Or hyacinth-light where forest-shadows fall; |