VI.

Early and late, at her soul's gate, Sits Chastity in warderwise, No thoughts unchallenged, small or great, Go thence into her eyes; Nor may a low, unworthy thought Beyond that virgin warder win, Nor one, whose password is not "ought," May go without or enter in. I call her, seeing those pure eyes, The Eve of a new Paradise, Which she by gentle word and deed, And look no less, doth still create About her, for her great thoughts breed A calm that lifts us from our fallen state, And makes us while with her both good and great-- Nor is their memory wanting in our need: With stronger loving, every hour, Turneth my heart to this frail flower, Which, thoughtless of the world, hath grown To beauty and meek gentleness, Here in a fair world of its own-- By woman's instinct trained alone-- A lily fair which God did bless, And which from Nature's heart did draw Love, wisdom, peace, and Heaven's perfect law.

LOVE'S ALTAR.

I built an altar in my soul, I builded it to one alone; And ever silently I stole, In happy days of long-agone, To make rich offerings to that ONE.

'Twas garlanded with purest thought, And crowned with fancy's flowers bright, With choicest gems 'twas all inwrought Of truth and feeling; in my sight It seemed a spot of cloudless light.

Yet when I made my offering there, Like Cain's, the incense would not rise; Back on my heart down-sank the prayer, And altar-stone and sacrifice Grew hateful in my tear-dimmed eyes.

O'er-grown with age's mosses green, The little altar firmly stands; It is not, as it once hath been, A selfish shrine;--these time-taught hands Bring incense now from many lands.

Knowledge doth only widen love; The stream, that lone and narrow rose, Doth, deepening ever, onward move, And with an even current flows Calmer and calmer to the close.

The love, that in those early days Girt round my spirit like a wall, Hath faded like a morning haze, And flames, unpent by self's mean thrall, Rise clearly to the perfect |ALL|.

IMPARTIALITY.

I cannot say a scene is fair Because it is beloved of thee, But I shall love to linger there, For sake of thy dear memory; I would not be so coldly just As to love only what I must.