But these were dead:  these felt no more
  The anguish of the wounds they bore. 
  Behold, they shall not sigh again,
  Nor justly fear, nor hope in vain. 
  What if none wept above them?—­is
  The sleeper less at rest for this? 
  Is not the young child’s slumber sweet
  When no man watcheth over it? 
  These had deep calm; but all around
  There was a deadly smothered sound,
  The choking cry of agony
  From wounded men who could not die;
  Who watched the black wing of the raven
  Rise like a cloud ’twixt them and heaven,
  And in the distance flying fast
  Beheld the eagle come at last.

  She knelt down in her agony: 
  “O Lord, it is enough,” said she: 
  “My heart’s prayer putteth me to shame;
  “Let me return to whence I came. 
  “Thou for who love’s sake didst reprove,
  “Forgive me for the sake of love.”

Sweet Death

      The sweetest blossoms die. 
  And so it was that, going day by day
    Unto the church to praise and pray,
  And crossing the green church-yard thoughtfully,
      I saw how on the graves the flowers
      Shed their fresh leaves in showers;
  And how their perfume rose up to the sky
      Before it passed away.

      The youngest blossoms die. 
  They die, and fall, and nourish the rich earth
    From which they lately had their birth. 
  Sweet life:  but sweeter death that passeth by,
      And is as tho’ it had not been. 
      All colors turn to green: 
  The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly;
      The grass hath lasting worth.

      And youth and beauty die. 
  So be it, O my God, thou God of truth. 
    Better than beauty and than youth
  Are saints and angels, a glad company: 
      And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease,
      Are better far than these. 
  Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why
      Prefer to glean with Ruth?

The Subject in Art No.  II

Resuming a consideration of the subject-matter suitable in painting and sculpture, it is necessary to repeat those premises, and to re-establish those principles which were advanced or elicited in the first number of this essay.

It was premised then that works of Fine Art affect the beholder in the same ratio as the natural prototypes of those works would affect him; and not in proportion to the difficulties overcome in the artificial representation of those prototypes.  Not contending, meanwhile, that the picture painted by the hand of the artist, and then by the hand of nature on the eye of the beholder, is, in amount, the same as the picture painted there by nature alone; but disregarding, as irrelevant to this investigation, all concomitants of fine art wherein they involve an ulterior impression as to the relative merits of the work by the amount of its success, and, for a like reason, disregarding all emotions and impressions which are not the immediate and proximate result of an excitor influence of, or pertaining to, the things artificial, as a bona fide equivalent of the things natural.