Who knows what’s fit for us?  Had fate 90
Proposed bliss here should sublimate
My being—­had I signed the bond—­
Still one must lead some life beyond,
        Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. 
This foot once planted on the goal,
This glory-garland round my soul,
Could I descry such?  Try and test! 
I sink back shuddering from the quest. 
Earth being so good, would heaven seem best? 
        Now, heaven and she are beyond this ride.

X

And yet—­she has not spoke so long! 100
What if heaven be that, fair and strong
At life’s best, with our eyes upturned
Whither life’s flower is first discerned,
        We, fixed so, ever should so abide? 
What if we still ride on, we two
With life for ever old yet new,
Changed not in kind but in degree,
The instant made eternity—­
And heaven just prove that I and she
        Ride, ride together, forever ride? 110

Notes:  “The Last Ride Together.”  The rapture of a rejected lover in the one more last ride which he asks for and obtains, discovers for him the all-sufficing glory of love in itself.  Soldiership, statesmanship, art are disproportionate in their results; love can be its own reward, yes, heaven itself.

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN:  A CHILD’S STORY.

(Written for, and inscribed to, W. M. the Younger.)

I

Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick,
        By famous Hanover city;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side;
A pleasanter spot you never spied;
        But, when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
        From vermin, was a pity.

II

        Rats! 10
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
        And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
        And licked the soup from the cooks’ own ladles,
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women’s chats
        By drowning their speaking
        With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats. 20

III

At last the people in a body
        To the Town Hall came flocking
“’Tis clear,” cried they, “our Mayor’s a noddy,
        And as for our Corporation—­shocking
To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
For dolts that can’t or won’t determine
What’s best to rid us of our vermin! 
You hope, because you’re old and obese,
To find in the furry civic robe ease? 
Rouse up, sirs!  Give your brains a racking 30
To find the remedy we’re lacking,
Or, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!”
At this the Mayor and Corporation
Quaked with a mighty consternation.