From this he drew fresh appetite for sway,
     And of it fell:  whereat was chorus raised,
     How surely shall a mad ambition pay
     Dues to Humanity, erewhile amazed.

     ’Twas dreamed by some the deluge would ensue,
     So trembling was the tension long constrained;
     A spirit of faith was in the chosen few,
     That steps to the millennium had been gained.

     But mainly the rich business of the hour,
     Their sight, made blind by urgency of blood,
     Embraced; and facts, the passing sweet or sour,
     To them were solid things that nought withstood.

     Their facts are going headlong on the tides,
     Like commas on a line of History’s page;
     Nor that which once they took for Truth abides,
     Save in the form of youth enlarged from age.

     Meantime give ear to woodland notes around,
     Look on our Earth full-breasted to our sun: 
     So was it when their poets heard the sound,
     Beheld the scene:  in them our days are one.

     What figures will be shown the century hence? 
     What lands intact?  We do but know that Power
     From piety divorced, though seen immense,
     Shall sink on envy of the humblest flower.

     Our cry for cradled Peace, while men are still
     The three-parts brute which smothers the divine,
     Heaven answers:  Guard it with forethoughtful will,
     Or buy it; all your gains from War resign.

     A land, not indefensibly alarmed,
     May see, unwarned by hint of friendly gods,
     Between a hermit crab at all points armed,
     And one without a shell, decisive odds.

     Youth in age

     Once I was part of the music I heard
     On the boughs or sweet between earth and sky,
     For joy of the beating of wings on high
     My heart shot into the breast of the bird.

     I hear it now and I see it fly,
     And a life in wrinkles again is stirred,
     My heart shoots into the breast of the bird,
     As it will for sheer love till the last long sigh.

     To A friend lost (tom Taylor)

     When I remember, friend, whom lost I call,
     Because a man beloved is taken hence,
     The tender humour and the fire of sense
     In your good eyes; how full of heart for all,
     And chiefly for the weaker by the wall,
     You bore that lamp of sane benevolence;
     Then see I round you Death his shadows dense
     Divide, and at your feet his emblems fall. 
     For surely are you one with the white host,
     Spirits, whose memory is our vital air,
     Through the great love of Earth they had:  lo, these,
     Like beams that throw the path on tossing seas,
     Can bid us feel we keep them in the ghost,
     Partakers of a strife they joyed to share.