. Lyrics on freedom, love and death . ion life Comes forth to man and health and strength, Out of the war of words at length,Out of the stir and storm and strife Comes forth a sterling hope to me— A hope of better days to be. Into the field comes gallant Truth, In mail arrayed and armed with flame,To champion a tottering fame That else were martyred in its youth. Now, clear the lists ! an even start ! Spur, Slander—Truth ! They meet nor , Sword, be true as God is just ! As God is great be great, O Heart !Ah ! Slander smitten smites the dust : The knight of Truth is oer his head :— The
. Lyrics on freedom, love and death . ion life Comes forth to man and health and strength, Out of the war of words at length,Out of the stir and storm and strife Comes forth a sterling hope to me— A hope of better days to be. Into the field comes gallant Truth, In mail arrayed and armed with flame,To champion a tottering fame That else were martyred in its youth. Now, clear the lists ! an even start ! Spur, Slander—Truth ! They meet nor , Sword, be true as God is just ! As God is great be great, O Heart !Ah ! Slander smitten smites the dust : The knight of Truth is oer his head :— The liar and the lie are dead ! Now hear the end of all the play ! —I hold her fair and firm and trueTo eyesight and to soul-sight, too : 246 Ysolte. She is the sweetest piece of clayGod ever sculptured into form ! And who on earth shall say me nay,If to the wide, wild world I say, Until lifes storms forever stay,I shall defend her from all storm ! I hear along the air a wedding bell ;Say, heart of mine ! how is it ? It is well !. 247 Li^^i^ie^ or^ D(2;^tn. Draw the dread curtain and enter in !—In oer the threshold the milhons have trod Lose but the dust of the balance, and win—What a moment ago was the secret of God September, 1885. 249 AN ANSWER. I ^.11 Can it be good to die ? you question, friend ; Can it be good to die, and move alongStill circling round and round, unknowing end, Still circling round and round amid the throngOf golden orbs attended by their moons— To catch the intonation of their songAs on they flash, and scatter nights, and noons. To worlds like ours, where things like us belong ? To me tis idle saying, He is dead. Or, Now he sleepeth and shall wake no more ;The little flickering, fluttering life is fled. Forever fled, and all that iluis is have a faith—that life and death are one, That each depends upon tlie self-same thread,And that the seen and unseen rivers run To one calm sea, from one clear fountain head. 250 An Ans7uer. I have a fa
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