Of sobered interest bent on vaster ends
Than hitherto were mine; and sympathy
For struggling souls, that each held dear within
A sacred meaning, known or unrevealed:—­
And these, in their complexities and far
Relations with the sum of general power
Which is the living world, now are my gain;
And grant my spirit from this widened truth
A glimpse of that high duty claimed of all. 
   How wildly flares the West about the sun,
Now fallen low!  And as one, nameless, sails,
Lost deep in witching reverie, along
A silent river; passing villages
Busy with toil; flowered banks and shadowy coves,
And cattle browsing peaceful in the meads;
Who only wakes to consciousness, when full
A burst of sunshine from the sinking orb
Smiting the flood first strikes his dazzled sight;—­
So to the present hour am I recalled
By yon red sun-light flaming up the spire,
And vane that sparkles in the warm blue heaven
And that too-well-remembered tolling bell.

Now on the broad mysterious ocean leans
The sailor o’er his vessel’s side, and feels
The buzzing joys of home; wondering if fate
Will bear him on to end his being there. 
Now pleased the housewife down the path descries
Her husband’s footsteps hitherward; his meal
Prepared, the children each made tidy; she
With smiling comfort means to soothe her man,
By labour wearied, through the evening hours. 
They whirl their life web, humming like a wheel,
These airy insects.  Birds have ceased to sing,
But twitter faintly, settling to their rest;
And not a rook’s caw rends the placid air. 
I must begone; but ere I go, will kneel
To kiss this ivy—­modest earthly type,
That would with constant verdure grace her name,
As I enshroud her memory with my love! 
For She has been the blessing that has nerved
My strength in failing hours of blackest night,
When doubts oppress and fears distract; and when
Gigantic Evil’s hoofs are crushing good,
And pity burns in terror; while, appalled,
Blanched Justice shrinks aloof; and not a voice,
The smallest, dares uplift itself against
The dripping blood-red horror which pollutes
With death and danger, heaven and earth and sea;
When men’s belief grows wild, seeing alone
The dreadful black abominable sin,
Forgetful that the light still shines beyond;
And doubting last the very truth of God,
They hate their fellow creatures and themselves;
Groaning beneath a Despot, who thinks less
Of precious human blood, than shipwrights count
Of water in the dock, so many feet
Will bear so many tons, if it but aid
One little step his brutalising aims,
Who as an armed thief sacks his people’s wealth. 
Then shines my Love’s star-brightness thro’ the gloom;
And comes, as comes a glorious Conqueror
Returning from that Despot’s overthrow,
His brow yet flashed and pale with victory: