The Sea Is Calm Tonight. The Tide

But Thou, My Son, Study To Make Prevail One Colour In Thy Life, The Hue Of Truth.

Thou Waitest For The Spark From Heaven! And We, Light Half-believers Of Our Casual Creeds, Who Never Deeply Felt, Nor Clearly Will'd, Whose Insight Never Has Borne Fruit In Deeds, Whose Vague Resolves Never Have Been Fulfill'd; For Whom Each Year We See Breeds New Beginnings, Disappointments New; Who Hesitate And Falter Life Away, And Lose To-morrow The Ground Won To-day Ah! Do Not We, Wanderer! Await It Too?

Know, Man Hath All Which Nature Hath, But More, And In That More Lie All His Hopes Of Good.

Ah Love, Let Us Be True To One Another, Which Seems To Lie Before Us Like A Land Of Dreams; So Various, So Beautiful, So New, Hath Really Neither Joy Nor Love Nor Life.

Time, So Complain'd Of, Who To No One Man Shows Partiality, Brings Round To All Men Some Undimm'd Hours.