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And who does not if he my faith possesses?
Thou didst instil me, then, with his instilling
In the Epistle, so that I am full,

And upon others rain again your rain."*
While I was speaking, in the living bosom

Of that effulgence quivered a sharp flash,
Sudden and frequent, in the guise of lightning.
Then breathed: "The love wherewith I am inflamed
Towards the virtue still, which followed me
Unto the palm and issue of the field,
Wills that I whisper thee, thou take delight
In her; and grateful to me is thy saying
Whatever things Hope promises to thee."
And I: "The ancient Scriptures and the new
The mark establish,† and this shows it me,
Of all the souls whom God has made His friends.
Isaiah saith, that each one garmented

In his own land shall be with twofold garments,+
And his own land is this delicious life.

Thy brother, too, far more explicitly,

There where he treateth of the robes of white,
This revelation manifests to us."§

And first, and near the ending of these words,
Sperent in te from over us was heard,

To which responsive answered all the carols.||
Thereafterward among them gleamed a light,¶
So that, if Cancer such a crystal had,
Winter would have a month of one sole day."
And as uprises, goes, and enters the dance
A joyous maiden, only to do honour

**

To the new bride, and not from any failing,++
So saw I the illuminated splendour

Approach the two, who in a wheel revolved,
As was beseeming to their ardent love.
It joined itself there in the song and music;
And fixed on them my Lady kept her look,
Even as a bride silent and motionless.
"This is the one who lay upon the breast
Of Himsş our Pelican; and this is he
To the great office|||| from the cross elected."
My Lady thus; but therefore none the more

*Your rain; that is, of David and yourself.

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"The mark of the high calling and election sure."

The twofold garments are the glorified spirit and the glorified body.

St John in the Apocalypse, vii. 9: "A great multitude, which no man could number. . . . clothed with white robes."

Dances and songs commingled; the circling choirs, the celestial choristers. St John the Evangelist.

**In winter the constellation Cancer rises at sunset; and if it had one star as bright as this, it would turn night into day.

11 Such as vanity, ostentation, or the like.

tt St Peter and St James are joined by St John.

$$ Christ.

Then saith He to that disciple, "Behold thy mother!" and from that hour hat disciple took her unto his own house." St John xix. 27.

Removed her sight from its fixed contemplation,
Before or afterward, these words of hers.
Even as a man who gazes, and endeavours

To see the eclipsing of the sun a little,
And who, by seeing, sightless doth become,
So I became before that latest fire,*

While it was said, "Why dost thou daze thyself
To see a thing which here has no existence?
Earth upon earth my body is,† and shall be
With all the others there, until our number
With the eternal proposition tallies;

With the two garments§ in the blessed cloister
Are the two lights|| alone that have ascended:
And this shalt thou take back into your world."¶
And at this utterance the flaming circle

Grew quiet, with the dulcet intermingling

Of sound that by the trinal** breath was made,

As to escape from danger or fatigue,

The oars that erst were in the water beaten
Are all suspended at a whistle's sound.
Ah, how much in my mind was I disturbed,
When I turned round to look on Beatrice,
At not beholding her, although I was
Close at her side and in the Happy World.

NOEL.

ENVOYÉ À M. AGASSIZ, LA VEILLE DE NOËL, 1864, AVEC UN PANIER DE VINS

*St John.

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"If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?"

Till the predestined number of the elect is complete.

The two garments: the glorified spirit, and the glorified body.

The two lights: Christ and the Virgin Mary.

Carry back these tidings.

**The sacred trio of St Peter, St James, and St John.

À l'envi se vantaient d'être
"Bons amis

De Jean Rudolphe Agassiz!"
Eil-de-Perdrix, grand farceur,
Sans reproche et sans pudeur,
Dans son patois de Bourgogne,
Bredouillait comme un ivrogne,
"Bons amis,

J'ai dansé chez Agassiz!"

Verzenay le Champenois,

Bon Français, point New-Yorquois,
Mais des environs d'Avize,
Fredonne à mainte reprise,
"Bons amis,

J'ai chanté chez Agassiz!"
À côté marchait un vieux
Hidalgo, mais non mousseux;
Dans le temps de Charlemagne
Fut son père Grand d'Espagne!
"Bons amis

J'ai dîné chez Agassiz!"
Derrière eux un Bordelais,
Gascon, s'il en fut jamais,
Parfumé de poésie

Riait, chantait, plein de vie,
"Bons amis,

J'ai soupé chez Agassiz!"

Avec ce beau cadet roux,
Bras dessus et bras dessous,
Mine altière et couleur terne,
Vint le Sire de Sauterne;
"Bons amis,

J'ai couché chez Agassiz!"
Mais le dernier de ces preux,
Était un pauvre Chartreux,
Qui disait, d'un ton robuste,
66 Bénédictions sur le Juste!
Bons amis,
Bénissons Père Agassiz!"
Ils arrivent trois à trois,
Montent l'escalier de bois
Clopin-clopant! quel gendarme
Peut permettre ce vacarme,
Bons amis,

À la porte d'Agassiz!

"Ouvrez donc, mon bon Seigneur,

Ouvrez vite et n'ayez peur;

Ouvrez, ouvrez, car nous sommes

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TRANSLATIONS.

THE GOOD SHEPHERD.

FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.

SHEPHERD! that with thine amorous, sylvan song
Hast broken the slumber which encompassed me,-
That mad'st thy crook from the accursed tree,
On which thy powerful arms were stretched so long!
Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountains;

For thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be;

I will obey thy voice, and wait to see

Thy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.

Hear, Shepherd !-Thou who for thy flock art dying,

O, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou

Rejoicest at the contrite sinner's vow.

O, wait!-to thee my weary soul is crying,

Wait for me!-Yet why ask it when I see,

With feet nailed to the cross, thou'rt waiting still for me!

TO-MORROW.

FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.

LORD, what am I, that, with unceasing care,
Thou didst seek after me,-that thou didst wait,
Wet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,
And pass the gloomy nights of winter there?
O strange delusion!-that I did not greet

Thy blest approach, and O, to Heaven how lost,

If my ingratitude's unkindly frost

Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet.

How oft my guardian angel gently cried,

"Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see

How he persists to knock and wait for thee!"

And, O! how often to that voice of sorrow,

"To-morrow we will open," I replied,

And when the morrow came I answered still, "To-morrow."

THE NATIVE LAND.

FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA.

CLEAR fount of light! my native land on high,
Bright with a glory that shall never fade!

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