‘Look, thou art fair.’ 
                       ’He was more fair
Than men, Who deigned for me to wear
A visage marred beyond compare.’

‘And thou hast riches.’ 
                        ’Daily bread: 
All else is His:  Who, living, dead, 20
For me lacked where to lay His Head.’

‘And life is sweet.’ 
                     ’It was not so
To Him, Whose Cup did overflow
With mine unutterable woe.’

THE DEVIL

‘Thou drinkest deep.’ 
                      ’When Christ would sup
He drained the dregs from out my cup: 
So how should I be lifted up?’

‘Thou shalt win Glory.’ 
                        ’In the skies,
Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes
Lest they should look on vanities.’ 30

‘Thou shalt have Knowledge.’ 
                             ’Helpless dust! 
In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust: 
Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just.’

’And Might.’—­
                ’Get thee behind me.  Lord,
Who hast redeemed and not abhorred
My soul, oh keep it by Thy Word.’

THE ONE CERTAINTY

Sonnet

Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith,
  All things are vanity.  The eye and ear
  Cannot be filled with what they see and hear. 
Like early dew, or like the sudden breath
Of wind, or like the grass that withereth,
  Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear: 
  So little joy hath he, so little cheer,
Till all things end in the long dust of death. 
To-day is still the same as yesterday,
  To-morrow also even as one of them;
And there is nothing new under the sun: 
Until the ancient race of Time be run,
  The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem,
And morning shall be cold and twilight grey.

CHRISTIAN AND JEW

A DIALOGUE

’Oh happy happy land! 
Angels like rushes stand
  About the wells of light.’—­
  ’Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight: 
Hold fast my hand.’—­

’As in a soft wind, they
Bend all one blessed way,
  Each bowed in his own glory, star with star.’—­
  ’I cannot see so far,
  Here shadows are.’—­ 10

’White-winged the cherubim,
Yet whiter seraphim,
  Glow white with intense fire of love.’—­
’Mine eyes are dim: 
  I look in vain above,
And miss their hymn.’—­

’Angels, Archangels cry
One to other ceaselessly
  (I hear them sing)
  One “Holy, Holy, Holy” to their King.’—­ 20
’I do not hear them, I.’—­

’At one side Paradise
  Is curtained from the rest,
Made green for wearied eyes;
  Much softer than the breast
Of mother-dove clad in a rainbow’s dyes.