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Politics of European Integration Political Union or a
House Divided 1st Edition Andrew Glencross Digital
Instant Download
Author(s): Andrew Glencross
ISBN(s): 9781405193948, 1405193948
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 11.48 MB
Year: 2014
Language: english
The Politics of
European
Integration
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 The Politics of
European
Integration
Political Union or a House Divided?

Andrew Glencross
This edition first published 2014
© 2014 Andrew Glencross

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The politics of European integration : political union or a house divided? / Andrew Glencross.
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1 2014
 Contents

List of Figures xi
List of Tables xiii
List of Timelines xv
List of Boxes xvii
Acknowledgments xix

Introduction 1

PART I THE HISTORY OF EUROPEAN INTEGRATION 11

1 The Idea of Europe: Foundations and Justifications for Unity 13
1.0 Introduction: What and Where Is Europe? 14
1.1 The Historical Background to Thinking about European Unity 16
1.2 Early Ideas and Pioneers of Unity 18
1.2.1 William Penn 19
1.2.2 Abbot Saint Pierre 19
1.2.3 Immanuel Kant 20
1.2.4 Aristide Briand 21
1.3 The Peace or Civilizing Justification for Unity 22
1.4 The Prosperity Justification for Unity 24
1.5 The Strengthening State Capacity Justification for Unity 26
1.6 Concluding Summary 28
2 The Institutional Development of European Integration,
1945–1973 33
2.0 Introduction: Uniting for Peace 34
2.1 The Struggle to Resolve Post-War Security and
Economic Issues, 1945–1951 36
2.2 The Creation of the European Coal and
Steel Community (ECSC) in 1951 38
vi Contents

2.3 The Functioning of the ECSC and the Attempt at Full Military
and Political Union, 1951–1957 42
2.4 The Continuing Pursuit of Economic Integration:
Creating the EEC, 1957 45
2.5 Overcoming the First Tests: The Common Agricultural Policy
and the Empty Chair Crisis, 1957–1973 47
2.5.1 The launch of the Common Agricultural Policy 48
2.5.2 The empty chair crisis 49
2.6 Concluding Summary 51
3 The Institutional Development of European Integration,
1973–2010 57
3.0 Introduction: The Widening and Deepening of
European Integration 58
3.1 Living with the First Enlargement Round and
Preparing for the Next, 1973–1986 60
3.1.1 Mediterranean enlargement and strengthening democracy 61
3.1.2 The British budget contribution dispute 62
3.2 Completing the Single Market as a Prelude to Monetary
and Political Union, 1986–1992 65
3.2.1 French, German, and British perspectives on the SEA 66
3.3 Designing European Unity for the Post-Cold War Era, 1992–2004 68
3.3.1 Negotiating the Maastricht Treaty, 1992 69
3.3.2 Preparing for a new enlargement 71
3.4 From Constitutional Failure to the Lisbon Treaty, 2004–2010 73
3.4.1 The Constitutional Treaty, 2004 74
3.4.2 The Lisbon Treaty, 2009 75
3.5 Concluding Summary 77

PART II ANALYZING INTEGRATION 83

4 The EU’s Institutional Dynamics 85
4.0 Introduction: The Functioning of the EU 86
4.1 An Overview of the Dynamics of EU Policy-Making 87
4.2 The Ordinary Legislative Procedure (OLP) 89
4.2.1 The role of the Commission 89
4.2.2 The legislative institutions: The Council of the EU and
the European Parliament 93
4.3 The Role of Interest Groups and Experts 95
4.3.1 Assessing the influence of interest group lobbying 96
4.4 The Commission’s Watchdog Role and the Importance of the CJEU 99
4.4.1 The development of the Court of Justice’s powers 100
4.5 Special Provisions for Foreign Policy 104
4.5.1 The legal basis and decision-making structure of
EU foreign policy 104
4.6 Concluding Summary 106
 Contents vii

5 EU Policy-Making in Action: Major EU Policies 111

5.0 Introduction: The EU’s Major Policy Areas 112
5.1 The EU Budget 113
5.2 The Euro 115
5.2.1 Preparing for European Monetary Union 115
5.3 The Single Market 118
5.3.1 Pursuing deregulation or negative integration 118
5.3.2 Pursuing re-regulation or positive integration 119
5.3.3 The single market as a work in progress 120
5.4 Social and Environmental Policy 122
5.4.1 EU environmental policy 123
5.5 Justice and Citizenship 125
5.5.1 Immigration, border control, and citizenship rights 126
5.6 Enlargement 128
5.6.1 Conditions placed on admitting new members 129
5.7 Concluding Summary 131
6 The EU in Comparative Perspective 137
6.0 Introduction: Why Compare? 138
6.1 The EU Compared with Federal States 139
6.1.1 Why depict the EU as a federation? 139
6.1.2 Explaining EU Politics using Federalism 142
6.2 The EU Compared with International Organizations 143
6.2.1 The absence of reciprocity or the quid pro quo principle
in the EU 144
6.2.2 Explaining why the EU has integrated more 145
6.3 The sui generis Interpretation 148
6.3.1 Three facets of EU uniqueness 149
6.3.2 Explaining why European integration looks unique 151
6.4 Concluding Summary 153

PART III DEBATING THE EU SYSTEM AND ITS POLICY OUTPUTS 159
7 EU Internal Policies: The Theory, Practice, and
Politics of Regulation 161
7.0 Introduction: Regulatory Outputs and EU Politics 162
7.1 Regulatory Theory and European Integration 163
7.1.1 Regulating against market failure 164
7.1.2 The debate over how to regulate 165
7.2 EU Regulation in Practice 167
7.2.1 Deregulation in practice 167
7.2.2 Regulating for common standards and its effectiveness 170
7.3 Not Just a Regulatory State: The Politics of EU Regulatory Outputs 171
7.3.1 The politics of deregulation 171
7.3.2 Balancing winning and losing sides in regulatory outputs 174
7.3.3 How political preferences influence regulatory outputs 175
viii Contents

7.4 Theorizing EU Regulation and Explaining Its Effects 177

7.4.1 Explaining the growth of EU regulation 177
7.4.2 Theorizing the consequences of EU regulation 179
7.5 Concluding Summary 180
8 The Institutionalization of EU Foreign Policy and Debates
over the EU’s International Role 185
8.0 Introduction: What Is at Stake in Understanding EU
Foreign Relations? 186
8.1 The Institutions and Institutionalization of EU Foreign Policy 187
8.1.1 The Common Foreign and Security Policy and the
Common Security and Defence Policy 188
8.1.2 Building capacity 189
8.2 The Debate over EU Foreign Policy Effectiveness 192
8.2.1 The Transatlantic dimension 193
8.2.2 Finding consensus 195
8.3 The Ideological Debate over the Aims of EU Foreign Policy 197
8.3.1 The EU as a normative power? 198
8.4 The Explanatory Debate over EU Foreign Policy 201
8.4.1 Power and interests as explanatory factors 201
8.4.2 Identity as an explanatory factor 202
8.5 Concluding Summary 205
9 What Model for Uniting Europe? 211
9.0 Introduction: Competing Models of European Integration 212
9.1 Federalism 213
9.1.1 Problems with the federal vision 214
9.2 Confederalism 216
9.2.1 Proposals for more confederalism in the EU 219
9.3 The Networked Governance Model 220
9.3.1 Concerns about legitimacy and effectiveness 223
9.4 The Differentiated Integration Model 224
9.4.1 Differentiation to allow some countries to integrate more 226
9.5 Concluding Summary 228

PART IV DEMOCRACY AND INTEGRATION 233

10 Democracy in the European Union 235
10.0 Introduction: More Integration, More Democracy? 236
10.1 Democratic Accountability in the EU: Beyond Majoritarianism 237
10.1.1 Accountability without majoritarianism 239
10.2 The Democratic Deficit Debate 241
10.2.1 The procedural critique of EU democracy: A lack of
responsiveness to citizens 242
10.2.2 The normative critique of EU democracy: The narrowing
of political alternatives 246
10.2.3 The case against a democratic deficit 248
 Contents ix

10.3 Enhancing Democracy in the EU 249

10.3.1 Adding parliamentary or presidential features 249
10.3.2 Developing transnational parties and enhancing indirect
accountability 250
10.3.3 Obstacles to enhancing EU democracy 253
10.4 Concluding Summary 255
11 The Impact of European Integration on National Politics 261
11.0 Introduction: Political Adaptation to European Integration 262
11.1 European Integration and National Politics: The End of the
Permissive Consensus 263
11.1.1 The emergence of a “constraining dissensus” 264
11.2 Euroskepticism and Its Varieties 267
11.2.1 When and where euroskepticism is expressed 267
11.2.2 Hard euroskepticism 271
11.2.3 Soft euroskepticism 272
11.3 National Referendums on EU Issues 273
11.3.1 Why hold referendums? 274
11.3.2 The political dynamics of referendum campaigns 276
11.4 Concluding Summary 278
12 Integration and Democracy in the Shadow of the
Eurozone Debt Crisis 285
12.0 Introduction: The Eurozone Crisis as a Challenge to Democracy
and Integration 286
12.1 The Causes of the Eurozone Crisis 288
12.1.1 Benefits and concerns surrounding the European
Monetary Union (EMU) 288
12.1.2 The global financial crisis’ effect on the Eurozone 290
12.2 The Travails of Formulating an EU Response 292
12.2.1 Deciding whether to provide a bailout and on what terms 293
12.2.2 The Fiscal Compact and moves toward a banking union 295
12.3 Criticism and Controversies Surrounding the EU Response 297
12.3.1 Democratic decision-making? 298
12.3.2 The right response? 299
12.3.3 Who is to blame? 302
12.4 Conclusion: What the Crisis Means for the Future of Integration 305

Index 311
 List of Figures

0.1 Map of contemporary EU 2

0.2 Diagram of EU institutional decision-making 6
4.1 Diagram of the EU legal system 102
5.1 Budget deficits (as % of GDP) in Eurozone countries (2012) 117
10.1 Voter turnout in the EU: European parliamentary elections and
national elections 245
10.2 Average voter turnout in elections for the European Parliament,
1979–2009 245
11.1 Citizens’ “tendency to trust” the EU and national government 270
12.1 The vicious cycle of government debt and weak growth in the Eurozone 300
 List of Tables

1.1 Average GDP growth of large economies, 1970–2009 25

2.1 The EEC institutions 46
2.2 Forms of regional association 48
3.1 Number of MEPs per EU country (2013) 63
4.1 List of Commissioners’ policy portfolios (2012) 90
4.2 List of Council configurations 93
5.1 Candidates for EU membership (correct as of July 2013) 129
8.1 EU CSDP civilian missions and military operations (2003–2013) 190
8.2 National contributions to the EU Anti-Piracy Mission (July 2009) 191
 List of Timelines

1.1 The Historical Background to European Integration 14

2.1 End of Second World War to UK Accession to EEC (1945–1973) 34
3.1 First EEC Enlargement to Lisbon Treaty (1973–2010) 58
12.1 The Eurozone Crisis (2008–2013) 286
 List of Boxes

1.1 Key Debate: Where Are the Boundaries of Europe? 15

1.2 Key Concept: The Balance of Power 18
1.3 Case Study: The Prosperity Justification in Action 25
2.1 Key Debate: European Integration and NATO 39
2.2 Key Concept: Supranationalism and Intergovernmentalism 40
2.3 Case Study: Treaty Ratification 44
3.1 Key Debate: The Pros and Cons of Enlargement 61
3.2 Case Study: The United Kingdom: An Awkward European Partner? 64
3.3 Key Concept: The Enlargement Process 72
4.1 Key Debate: A More Political Commission? 92
4.2 Case Study: Lobbying under the OLP 98
4.3 Key Concept: The Constitutionalization of the EU 103
5.1 Key Concept: The Stability and Growth Pact 116
5.2 Key Debate: Neoliberalism versus the Social Market 122
5.3 Case Study: The European Arrest Warrant 127
6.1 Key Debate: Does the EU Require a “Constitutional Moment”? 140
6.2 Case Study: The EU and Membership of International Organizations 146
6.3 Key Concept: The Knowledge Deficit about the EU 149
7.1 Key Concept: The Left–Right Divide in European Politics 166
7.2 Key Debate: Does Integration Lead to Social Dumping and a Race to
the Bottom? 169
7.3 Case Study: The Rise of the Regulatory State 172
8.1 Key Concept: The EU and Soft Power 196
8.2 Case Study: EU Sanctions 200
8.3 Key Debate: Multilateralism as the Preference of the Weak? 203
9.1 Key Debate: Is Europe Ready for Federalism? 216
9.2 Key Concept: The Structural Weakness of Confederation 217
9.3 Case Study: Open Method of Coordination 222
10.1 Key Concept: European Elections as Second‑Order Contests 238
xviii List of Boxes

10.2 Key Debate: The “No Demos” Problem 243

10.3 Case Study: Enhancing National Parliamentary Scrutiny:
The Danish Example 252
11.1 Case Study: European Integration and the Growth of Regionalism 266
11.2 Key Concept: Public Opinion and the EU 270
11.3 Key Debate: Are National Referendums a Good Idea? 278
12.1 Key Concept: Sovereign Default 292
12.2 Case Study: The Evolving Role of the ECB 294
12.3 Key Debate: The Eurozone Split over Eurobonds 303
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SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 249 The honest man, though e'er

sac poor, Is king o' men for a' that Ye see yon birkic, ca'd a lord,
What struts, and stares, and a1 that; Though hundreds worship at
his word, He's but a coof for a' that ; For a' that, and a' that, 1 lis rib
and star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and
laughs at a' that. A prince can mak' a belted knight, A marquis,
duke, and a' that ; But an honest man's aboon his might, Guid faith,
he maunafa' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a'
that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a'
that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that,
That .sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear t he gvee, and a'
that; For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet for a' that ; That man to
man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. ROBERT BURNS.
THE WORLD. Y~ W~ I HE world is a queer old fellow ; \ I I As you
journey along by his side X You had better conceal any trouble you
feel, If you want to tickle his pride. No matter how heavy your
burden — Don't tell about it, pray ; He will only grow colder and
shrug his shoulder And hurriedly walk away. But carefully cover your
sorrow, And the world will be your friend. If only you'll bury your
woes and be merry He'll cling to you close to the end. Don't ask him
to lift one finger To lighten your burden, because He never will share
it ; but silently bear it And he will be loud with applause. The world
is a vain old fellow ; You must laugh at his sallies of wit No matter
how brutal, remonstrance is futile, And frowns will not change him
one whit. And since you must journey together Down paths where
all mortal feet go, Why, life holds more savor to keep in his favor, For
he's an unmerciful foe. ELLA WHKELEE WILCOX. B THE REAPER.
EHOLD her single in the field, Yon solitary Highland lass ! Heaping
and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts
and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain ; 0 listen ! for the
vale profound Is overflowing with the sound. No nightingale did ever
chant More- welcome notes to weary bands Of travelers in some
shady haunt Among Arabian sands; No sweeter voice was ever
heard In spring-time 1'rom the cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of
the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she
sings? Perhaps the plaintive numbers How From old, unhappy, far-off
things, And battles long ago : Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain. That
has been, and may be again ? Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending ; 1 saw her singing at her work,
And over the sickle bending ; I listened till I had my fill ; And as I
mounted up the hill The music in my heart I bore Long after it was
heard no more. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THE DAY IS DONE.
T"T^HE day is done, and the darkness re) I fa Falls from the wings
of night, X As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his
.flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the
mist. And a feeling of sadness comes over me. That my soul cannot
resist ; A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles rain. Come, read
to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe
this restless feelim;. And banish the thoughts of day.
The text on this page is estimated to be only 29.60%
accurate

250 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. 8 Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through
the corridors of time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty
thoughts suggest Life's endless toil atid endeavor ; And to-night I
long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed
from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from
the eyelids start ; Who, through long days of labor, And nights
devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful
melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read
from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the
rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be
filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their
tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. HENRY
WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. ONLY A WORD. NLY a word his lips let
fall, A careless word in wanton play ; He did not think of it at all, And
idly went upon his way. But in a heart with sorrow sore, The cruel
gibe produced its smart, And what he never thought of more
Convulsed a crushed and bleeding heart. Only a word another spoke
— A simple word lit by a smile — And mental clouds their darkness
broke Which shadowed all the sky erewhile. A life which hope had
seemed to leave Grew stronger from its generous might; A heart
bowed down with utter grief Felt the rare radiance of its light. The
future rose serene and fair, And sorrow lost its hitter sting ; A single
word, though light as air, May seem a very little thing; But hope, joy,
sorrow and despair By it in human hearts are stirred ; There is
nothing more foul or fair Than one slight utterance of a word. & I ©
THE SPHINX. HE Sphinx is drowsy. Her wings are furled, Her ear is
heavy, She broods on the world. "Who'll tell me my secret The ages
have kept? I awaited the seer While they slumbered and slept. "The
fate of the manchild — The meaning of man — Known fruit of the
unknown, Daedalian plan. Out of sleeping a waking, Out of waking a
sleep, Life death overtaking, Deep underneath deep. "Erect as a
sunbeam Upspringeth the palm ; The elephant browses Undaunted
and calm ; In beautiful motion The thrush plies his wings, Kind
leaves of his covert ! Your silence he sings. "The waves unashamed
In difference sweet, Play glad with the breezes, Old playfellows
meet. The journeying atoms, Primordial wholes, Firmly draw, firmly
drive, By their animate poles. "Sea, earth, air, sound, silence, Plant,
quadruped, bird, By one music enchanted, One Deity stirred, Each
the other adorning, Accompany still, Night veileth the morning, The
vapor the hill. "The babe by its mother Lies bathed in joy, Glide its
hours uncounted, The sun is its toy ; Shines the peace of all being
Without cloud in its eyes, And the sum of the world In soft miniature
lies.
 SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 251 "But man crouches and
blushes, Absconds and conceals ; He creepeth and peepeth, He
palters and steals ; Infirm, melancholy, Jealous glancing around, An
oaf, an accomplice, He poisons the ground. " Outspoke the great
mother Beholding his fear ; — At the sound of her accents Cold
shuddered the sphere ; — " ' Who has drugged my boy's cup, Who
has mixed my boy's bread ? Who, with sadness and madness, Has
turned the manchild's head ? ' I heard a poet answer Aloud and
cheerfully, " Say on, sweet Sphinx !— thy dirges Are pleasant songs
to me. Deep love lieth under These pictures of time, They fade in
the light of Their meaning sublime. "The fiend that man harries Is
love of the best, Yawns the pit of the dragon Lit by rays from the
blest ; The Lethe of nature Can't trance him again, Whose soul sees
the perfect Which his eyes seek in vain. " Profounder, profounder
Man's spirit must dive : To his aye-rolling orbit No goal will arrive.
The heavens that now draw him With sweetness untold, Once found
— for new heavens He spurneth the old. " Pride ruined the angels,
Their shame them restores : And the joy that is sweetest Lurks in
stings of remorse. Have I a lover Who is noble and free — I would
he were nobler Than to love me. " Eterne alternation Now follows,
now flies, And under pain, pleasure — Under pleasure, pain lies.
Love works at the centre Heart heaving alway, Forth speed the
strong pulses To the borders of day. " Dull Sphinx, Jove keep thy five
wits ! Thy sight is growing blear ; Hemlock and vitriol for the Sphinx
Her muddy eyes to clear." The old Sphinx bit her thick lip — Said,
"Who taught thee me to name ? Manchild ! I am thy spirit ; Of thine
eye I am eyebeam. " Thou art the unanswered question : — Couldst
see thy proper eye, Alway it asketh, asketh, And each answer is a
lie. So take thy quest through nature, It through thousand natures
ply, Ask on, thou clothed eternity, Time is the false reply." Uprose
the merry Sphinx, And crouched no more in stone, She hopped into
the baby's eyes, She hopped into the moon, She spired into a yellow
flame, She flowered in blossoms red, She flowed into a foaming
wave, She stood Monadnoc's head. Thorough a thousand voices
Spoke the universal dame, "Who telleth one of my meanings Is
master of all I am." RALPH WALDO EMERSON. SEAWEED. WHEN
descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox,
Landward in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with
seaweed from the rocks : From Bermuda's reefs ; from edges Of
sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore ; From Bahama, and the
dashing, Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador ; From the tumbling
surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse
Hebrides ; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On
the desolate, rainy seas ; — Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the
shifting Currents of the 7-estless main ; Till in sheltered coves, and
reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again.
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252 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. So when storms of wild emotion

Strike the ocean Of the poet's soul, ere long From each cave and
rocky fastness, In its vastness, Floats some fragment of a song :
From the far-off isles enchanted, Heaven has planted With the
golden fruit of truth ; From the flashing surf whose vision Gleams
Elysian In the tropic clime of youth ; From the strong will, and the
endeavot That for ever Wrestles with the tides of fate; From the
wreck of hopes far-scattered, Tempest-shattered, Floating waste and
desolate ; — Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents
of the restless heart ; Till at length in hooks recorded, They, like
hoarded Household words, no more depart. HENRY WADSWOl'JII
LONGFELLOW. TAKE BACK THE VIRGIN PAGE sp Written on
returning a blank bonk. AKE back the virgin page, White and
unwritten still ; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light, Pure as even you require ; But, oh
! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book ; Oft
shall my heart renew, When on its leaves I look, Dear thoughts of
you. Like you, 'tis fair and bright, Like you, ton bright and fair To let
wild passion write One wrung wish there. Haply when from those
eyes I'ai-. far away T roam, Should calmer thoughts arise Tow' ids
you and home ", Fancy may trace some line. Worthy those eyes to
meet, Thoughts that not burn, but shine, Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean fir. Seamen their records keep, a Led by some
hidden star Through the cold deep ; So may the words I write Tell
through what storms I stray — You still the unseen light, Guiding my
way. THOMAS MOORK. CLEON AND I. LEON hath a million acres —
ne'er a one have I : Cleon dwelleth in a palace — in a cottage, I :
Cleon hath a dozen fortunes — not a penny, I : But the poorer of the
twain is Cleon, and not I. Cleon, true, posscss(th acres — but the
landscape. I : Half the charms to me it yieldeth, money cannot buy :
Cleon harbors sloth and dullness — freshening vigor, I ; He in velvet,
I in fustian ; richer man am I. Cleon is a slave to grandeur — free as
thought am 1 ; Cleon fees a score of doctors — need of none have I.
Wealth surrounded, care-environed, Cleon fears to die; Death may
come — he'll find me ready — happier man am I. Cleon sees no
charm in nature — in a daisy, I ; Cleon hears no anthem ringing in
the sea and sky. Nature sings to me forever— earnest listener, I;
State for state, with all attendants, who would change 1 Not I.
CHARLES MACKAY. DEATH THE LEVELLER. These 6tanzasare said to
have "chilled the heart " of Oliver fi well. Y~¥~7lIE glories of our
blood and state \ I I Are shadows, not substantial things; JL There is
no armor against fate ; Death lays his icy band on kings: Sceptre
and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With
the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords mny
reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their
strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still :
Early or late, They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring
breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands
wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon
death's purple altar now Sec where the victor-victim bleeds : Your
heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust. JAMES SHIRLEY.
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SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 253 n UNRECOGNIZED. SEED

came floating near me, A brown and paltry thing, It seemed an idle
pastime To stay its hasty wing. But lo ! my neighbor grasped it, And
'neath her watchful care, It grew and gave her freely A wreath of
blossoms rare. And then the plant beholding, My tears fell freely
down, The seed was 0. so paltry, And light as thistle down. Why was
there none to whisper, lis opportunity ! The bloom and fragrance
yonder Would then have been fir me. CLARA J. DENTON. w LIFE. E
are born ; we laugh ; we weep ; We love ; we droop ; we die ! Ah.
wherefore do we laugh or weep? Why do we live or die? Who knows
that secret deep? Alas, not I ! Why dolh the violet spring Unseen by
human eye ? Whv do the radiant, seasons brinar Sweet thoughts
that quickly fly ; Why do our fond hearts cling To things that die? We
toil— through pain and wrong ; We fight— and fly ; We love ; we
lose ; and then, ere long, Stone-dead we lie. 0 life ! is all thy song
"Endure andlie BRYAN WALLER PROCTER. OLD FARMER GRUDGE. I
L.D Farmer Grudge was determined to trudge In the same old way
that his father went: To toil and to slave, to pinch and to save, Nor
spend on a pleasure a single cent. 1 1 is tools were few, and so
rusty, too, For want of the needful drop of oil, That, creaky and slow,
they were forced to go. And added much to his daily toil. His crops
were scant, for he would not plant Enough to cover his scanty field ;
Hut grumbled and prowled, and always scowled At. harvest over the
meagre yield. And from the paltry store on the threshing floor, From
gaping mow and neglected bin, Would voices cry as he passed them
by, "You can't take out what you don't put in!" Old Farmer Grudge
was a doleful drudge, And in his dwelling and on his land, 'Twas
plain to be seen, he was shrewd and keen, And managed all with a
miserly hand. There was little wool, there was little food; Oh, bare,
indeed, was the pantry shelf! Since he took no heed to another's
need, So he was warm and well led himself. The wife, it is true,
would skimp and screw, Piece and patch, and some way plan, As
woman will, with amazing skill, Who is tied for life to a stingy man ;
But, oh, how she sighed for the things denied! The hooks, and
comfort, and larger life For which she dreamed and for which she
schemed When consenting to be Farmer Grudge's wife. But Farmer
Grudge not an inch would budge From the path his penurious father
trod; But though very rich would work in a ditch All day. and at dusk
in a corner nod. And his girls and boys, bereft of the joys That
others had, were disposed to roam, And to spend profuse, nor put to
use The lessons they had been taught at home. HYMN OF THE CITY.
OT in the solitude Alone may man commune with heaven, or sea
Only in savage wood And Sunnyvale the present Deity; Or only hear
His voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here
do I behold Thy steps. Almighty ! — here, amidst the crowd.
Through the great city rolled, With everlasting murmur, deep and
loud, Choking the ways that wind 'Mongst the proud piles, the work
of human kind. Thy golden sunshine comes From the round heaven,
and on their dwellings lies And lights their inner homes ; For them
thou fill'st the air with unbounded skies. And givest them the stores
Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores. Thy spirit is around.
Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along; And this eternal
sound — Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng — Like the
resounding sea. Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of Thee.
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254 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. And when the hours of rest Come,

like a calm upon the mild sea brine, Hushing its billowy breast. The
quiet of that moment, too, is Thine ; It breathes of Him who keeps
The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
P SOLACE TOWARD THE SEA. LL Afric, winged with death and fire,
Pants in our pleasant English air. Each blade of grass is tense as
wire, And all the wood's loose trembling hair Stark in the broad and
breathless glare Of hours whose touch wastes herb and tree. This
bright, sharp death shines everywhere ; Life yearns for solace
toward the sea. Earth seems a corpse upon the pyre ; The sun, a
scourge for slaves to bear. All power to fear, all keen desire, Lies
dead as dreams of days that were Before the new-born world lay
bare In heavens wide eye, whereunder we Lie breathless till the
season spare : Life yearns for solace toward the sea. Fierce hours,
with ravening fangs that tire On spirit and sense, divide and share
The throbs of thoughts that scarce respire, The throes of dreams
that scarce forbear One mute immitigable prayer For cold, perpetual
sleep to be Shed snow-like on the sense of care. Life yearns for
solace toward the sea. The dust of ways where men suspire Seems
even the dust of death's dim lair. But, though the feverish days be
dire. The sea wind rears and cheers its fair Blithe broods of babes
that here and there Make the sands laugh and glow lor glee With
gladder flowers than gardens wear. Lii'e yearns for solace toward the
sea. The music dies not off the lyre That lets no soul alive despair.
Sleep strikes not dumb the breathless choir Of waves whose Hole
bids sorrow spare. As glad they sound, as last they fare, As when
fate's word first set them free And gave them light and Dlght to
wear. Life yearns lor solace toward the sea. Tor there, though night
and day conspire To compass round with toil and snare And ohangeli
bs whirl of change, whose gyre Draws all things earthwards
unaware, The spirit of hie they BCOUTge and scare. Wild waves that
follow on waves that flee Laugh, knowing that yet, though earth
despair, Life yearns for solace toward the sea. ALGERNON CHARLES
SWINBURNE. TOGETHER. OW happy am I, having you at my side,
Through life's ever changeable weather ; My hopes and my fears
unto you to confide, As we move heart in heart on together. We
have tasted success, we have drank of desire, With hearts light and
gay as a feather ; And the days and the deeds that our spirits inspire
— We have lived and enjoyed them together. Though care and
misfortune and trouble and pain Made part of life's changeable
weather, And sickness and sorrow came once and again, We met
and endured them together. So together still sharing what fate has
in store, May we go to the end of our tether ; When the good and
the evil things all are shared o'er, May we share the last sleep still
together. HUNTER MACCULLOCH. LIMITS OF HUMANITY. From the
German of Goethb. WHEN the Creator, The Great, the Eternal, Sows
with indifferent Hand, from the rolling Clouds, o'er the earth, Ilis
Lightnings in blessing, I kiss the nethermost Hem of His garment,
Lowly inclining In infantine awe. For never against The immortals, a
mortal May measure himself. Upwards aspiring, if ever He toucheth
the stars with his forehead, Then do his insecure feet Stumble and
totter and reel ; Then do the cloud and the tempest Make him their
pastime and sport. Let him with sturdy Sinewy limbs, Tread the
enduring Firm-seated earth ; Aiming no further, than with The oak or
the vine to compare ! What loth distinguish Gods fiom mankind ?
This! Multitudinou" i
 SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 255 Billows roll ever Before the
immortals, An infinite stream. We by a billow Are lifted — a billow
Engulfs us — we sink. And are heard of no more 1 A little round
Encircles our life, And races unnumbered Extend through the ages,
Linked by existence's Infinite chain. THEODORE MARTIN. THE
FOUNTAIN. A CONVERSATION. WE talked w Affecti A pair ol ith open
heart, and tongue ionate and true, of friends, though I was youn^,
And Matthew seventy-two. We lay beneath a spreading oak, Beside
a mossy seat ; And from the turf a fountain broke, And gurgled at
our feet. "Now, Matthew," said I, "let us match This water's pleasant
tune With some old border-song, or catch, That suits a summer's
noon ; " Or of the church-clock and the chimes Sing here beneath
the shade — That half-mad thing of whitty rhymes Which you last
April made. ' ' In silence Matthew lay, and eyed The spring beneath
the tree ; And thus the dear old man replied, The gray-haired man
of glee : " Down to the vale this water steers ; How merrily it goes !
'Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. "And
here, on this delightful day, I cannot choose but think How oft. a
vigorous man, I lay Beside this fountain's brink. "My eyes are dim
with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred ; For the same sound is in
my ears Which in those days I heard. "Thus fares it still in our decay
; And yet the wiser mind B Mourns less for what age takes away
Than what it leaves behind. "The blackbird in the summer trees, The
lark upon the hill, Let loose their carols when they please, Are quiet
when they will. "With nature never do they wage A foolish strife ;
they see A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free. "But
we are pressed by heavy laws ; And often, glad no more, We wear a
face of joy because We have been glad of yore. " If there be one
who need bemoan His kindred laid in earth, The household hearts
that were his owe It is the man of mirth. " My days, my friend, are
almost gone . My life has been approved, And many love me ; but
by none Am I enough beloved." "Now both himself and me he
wrongs, The man who thus complains ! I live and sing my idle songs
Upon these happy plains ; "And, Matthew, for thy children dead I'll
be a son to thee ! " At this he grasped my hand, and said, "Alas!
that cannot be." We rose up from the fountain-side ; And down the
smooth descent Of the green sheep-track did we glide, And through
the wood we went : And, ere we came to Leonard's rock, He sang
those witty rhymes About the crazy old church-clock, And the
bewildered chimes. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THE WEAVER. ESIDE
the loom of life I stand And watch the busy shuttle go ; The threads
I hold within my hand Make up the filling ; strand on strand They
slip my fingers through, and so This web of mine fills out apace
While I stand ever in my place. One time the woof is smooth and
fine And colored with a sunny dye ; Again the threads so roughly
twine And weave so darkly line on line,
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256 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. Li My heart misgives 'me. Then

would I Fain lose this web — begin anew — But that, alas ! I cannot
do. Some Jay the web will all be done, The shuttle quiet in its place,
From out my hold the threads be run ; And friends at setting of the
sun, Will come to look upon my i'ace, And say : '' Mistakes she made
not few, Yet wove perchance as best she knew." MAUY CLARE
HUNTINGTON. THE CROWDED STREET. ET me move slowly through
the street, Filled with an ever-shifting train, Amid the sound of steps
that beat The murmuring walks like autumn rain. How fast the
flitting figures come ! The mild, the fierce, the stony face — Some
bright with thoughtless smiles, and some Where secret tears have
left their trace. They pass to toil, to strife, to rest — To hall in which
the feast is spread — To chambers where the funeral guest In
silence sits beside the dead. And some to happy homes repair.
Where children pressing check to cheek, With mute caresses shall
declare The tenderness they cannot speak. And some, who walk in
calmness here, Shall shudder as they reach the door Where one who
made their dwelling dear, Its flower, its light, is seen no more. South,
with pale cheek and slender frame, And dreams of greatness in thine
eye ! Go'st thou to build an early name, Or early in the task to die?
Ki-in son of trade, with eager brow ! Who is now fluttering in thy
snare? Thy golden fortunes, tower they now, Or melt the glittering
spires in air? Who of this crowd to-night shall tread The dance till
daylight gleam again? Wlio sorrow o'er the untimely dead? \\ ho writ
In' in throes of mortal pain? Some, famine struck, shall think bow
]ons The eolil, dark hours, how slow the light; And some, who fiaUllt
amid the. throng, Shall hide in dens of .shame, to-night. Each where
his tasks or pleasures call, They pass, and heed each other not.
There is who heeds, who bolls them >;!1 In His large love and
boundless thought. These struggling tides of life, that seem In
wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream
That rolls to its appointed end. WILLIAM CULLEN BBYANT. NOT ON
THE BATTLE-FIELD. NO, no — let me lie Not on the field of battle,
when I die. Let not the iron tread Of the mad wardiorse crush my
helmedhead ; Nor let the reeking knife, That I have drawn against a
brother's life, Be in my hand when death Thunders along, and
tramples me beneath His heavy squadron's heels, Or gory felloes of
his cannon's wheels. From such a dying bed. Though over it float the
stripes of white and red, And the bald eagle brin.es The clustered
stars upon his wide-spread wings, To sparkle in my sight, 0, never
let my spirit take her flight ! I know that beauty's eye Is all the
brighter where gay pennants fly, Anil brazen helmets dance. And
sunshine flashes on the lifted lance ; I know that banls have siuil',
And people shouted till the welkin rung, In honor of the brave Who
on the battle-field have found a grave. I know that o'er their bones
Have grateful hands piled monumental stones. Some of those piles
I've seen : The one at Lexington upon the green Where the first
blood was .-lied, And to my country's indepeiuh nee led ; And others
on our shore, The " Battle Monument " at Baltimore, And that on
Bunker's Hill. Ay, and abroad a few more famous still ; Thy " tomb "
Thcmislm les. That looks out yet upon the Grecian seas, And which
the waters kiss That issue from the gulf of Salamis; And thine too
have I seen — Thy mound of earth, Patroclus, robed in green, s.
That like a natural knoll. Sheep climb and nibble over as they stroll,
Watched by some turbaned boy, Upon the margin of the plain of
Troy.
 SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 25' Such honors grace the bed, I
know, whereon the warrior lays his head, And hears, as life ebbs
out, The conquered flying, and the conqueror's shout, But, as his
eye grows dim, What is a column or a mound to him ? What to the
parting soul, The mellow note of bugles ? What the roll Of drums?
No, let me die Where the blue heaven bends over me lovingly, And
the soft summer air, As it goes by«me, stirs my thin, white hair, And
from my forehead dries The death damp as it gathers, and the skies
Seem waiting to receive My soul to their clear depths. Or let me
leave The world, when round my bed Wife, children, weeping
friends, are gathered, And the calm voice of prayer And holy
hymning shall my soul prepare, To go and be at rest With kindred
spirits, spirits who have blessed The human brotherhood By labors,
cares, and counsels for their good. In my dying hour, When riches,
fame, and honor, have no power To bear the spirit up, Or from my
lips to turn aside the cup That all must drink at last, 0, let me draw
refreshment from the past ! Then let my soul run back, With peace
and joy, along my earthly track, And see. that all the seeds That I
have scattered there in virtuous deeds, Have sprung up, and have
siven, Already, fruits of which to taste in heaven. And though no
grassy mound Or granite pile says 'tis heroic ground Where my
remains repose, Still will I hope — vain hope, perhaps — that those
Whom I have striven to bless — The wanderer reclaimed, the
fatherless — May stand around my grave, With the poor prisoner
and the lowest slave, And breathe an humble prayer, That they may
die like him whose bones are moldering there. JOHN TIERPONT.
ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY IN BELZONI'S EXHIBITION. C^T ND thou
hast walked about (how strange a story !) I—I InThebes's streets
three thousand years ago, X. When the Memnonium was in all its
glory, v And time had not begun to overthrow Those temples,
palaces, and piles stupendous, Of which the very ruins are
tremendous ! 17 Speak ! for thou long enough hast acted dummy :
Thou hast a tongue — come, let us hear its tune ; Thou'rt standing
on thy legs above ground, mummy, Revisiting the glimpses of the
moon ! Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures, But with thy
bones and flesh, and limbs and features. Tell us — for doubtless
thou canst recollect — To whom we should assign the Sphinx's fame.
Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect Of either pyramid that bears his
name ? Is Pompey's Pillar really a misnomer? Had Thebes a hundred
gates, as sung by Homer ? Perhaps thou wert a mason, and
forbidden By oath to tell the secrets of thy trade — Then say, what
secret melody was hidden In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise
played? Perhaps thou wert a priest ; if so, my struggles Are vain, for
priestcraft never owns its juggles. Perchance that very hand, now
pinioned flat, Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass, Or
dropped a half-penny in Homer's hat. Or doffed thine own to let
Queen Dido pass, Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, A torch at
the great Temple's dedication. I need not ask thee if that hand,
when armed, Has any Roman soldier mauled and knuckled ; For
thou wert dead and buried and embalmed Ere Romulus and Remus
had been suckled : Antiquity appears to have begun Long after thy
primeval race was run. Thou couldst develop, if that withered tongue
Might tell us what those sightless orbs have seen, How the world
looked when it was fresh and young, And the great deluge still had
left it green ; Or was it then so old that history's pages Contained no
record of its early ages ? Still silent, incommunicative elf! Art sworn
to secrecy ? then keep thy vows ; But prithee tell us something of
thyself — Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house : Since in the world
of spirits thou hast slumbered, What hast thou seen — what strange
adventures numbered ? Since first thy form was in this box
extended, We have, above-ground, seen some strange mutations :
The Roman Empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen,
we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been
humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. Didst thou
not hear the pother o'er thy head When the great Persian conqueror,
Cambyses, Marched armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread,
O'crthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis. Isis,
 258 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. And shook the pyramids with fear
and wonder When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder? If the tomb's
secrets may not be confessed, The nature of thy private life unfold :
A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast. And tears adown
that dusky cheek have rolled ; Have children climbed those knees
and kissed that face ? What was thy name and station-, age and
race ? Statue of flesh ! immortal of the dead ! Imperishable type of
evanescence ! Posthumous man, who quit'st thy narrow bed, And
standest undecayed within our presence ! Thou wilt hear nothing till
the judgment morning, When the great trump shall thrill thee with
its warning. Why should this worthless tegument endure, If its
undying guest be lost forever ? < >h, let us keep the soul embalmed
and pure In living virtue, that, when both must sever. Although
corruption may our frame consume, The immortal spirit in the skies
may bloom. HORACE SMITH. F LITTLE AND GREAT. TRAVELLER
through a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea ; And one took root
and sprouted up, And grew into a tree. Love sought its shade at
evening time, To breathe his early vows ; And age was pleased, in
heats of noon, To bask beneath its boughs. The dormouse loved its
dangling twigs The birds sweet music bore ; It stood a glory in its
place, A blessing evermore. A little spring had lost its way Amid the
grass and fern ; A passing stranger scooped a well, Where weary
men might turn. He walled it up and hung with care A ladle at the
brink : lie thought not of the deed he did. Uut judged that toil might
drink. He passed again — and lo ! the well, By Bummers never
dried, Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues, And saved a life
beside. A dreamer dropped a random thought 'Twas old — and yet
'twas new, A simple fancy of the brain. But strong in being true. I It
shone upon a genial mind, And lo ! its light became A lamp of life, a
beacon ray, A monitory flame. The thought was small — its issue
great, A watch-fire on the hill. It sheds its radiance far adown, And
cheers the valley still. A nameless man, amid a crowd That thronged
the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, Unstudied, from the
heart. A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath, It raised
a brother from the dust,' It saved a soul from death. (3 germ ! 0
fount ! 0 word of love ! O thought at random cast ! Ye were but little
at the first, But mighty at the last ! CHARLES MACKAY. I WONDER.
WONDER when that day will be When death shall come to tell to me
The story that we all must hear? When, with the silence drawing
near, I feel my hold on earth so weak My pale lips have no power to
speak Of anguish or of ecstacy. Ah, lowly house the grasses under,
When will ye ope to velcome me Your silent guest to be, I wonder? I
wonder if it will be spring, When o'er my head the birds will sing
Their first sweet song not set to words? And which of all the many
birds Will be the first to carol there, When I, forever done with care,
Just like a child tired out at play, Sleep all the night and all the day
So peacefully my green roof under, Will it be autumn time or May.
Winter or summer time, I wonder? I wonder if I shall be glad To
leave the pain I long have had? Or, if from friends who love me so,
But with reluctance I shall go? Go out upon that journey long So
voiceless I shall sing no song : Al), chain of life's fair warp and woof,
When will your bright links drop asunder? When will I sleep beneath
the roof Thatched with the violets, I wonder? HELEN A. MANVILLE.
 SONGS OF SENTIMENT. 259 & I © WEEP NO MORE. EEP
no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that's gone ;
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again ;
Trim thy locks, look cheerfully, Fate'.s hidden ends eyes cannot see ;
Joys as winged dreams fly fast, Why should sadness longer last ?
Grief is but a wound to woe ; Gentlest fair one, mourn no mo. JOHN
FLETCHER. AFTER THE BALL. HEY sat and combed their beautiful
hair, Tbeir long, bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and
talked in the chamber there, After the revel was done. Idly they
talked of waltz and quadrille, Idly they laughed, like other girls, Who
over the fire, when all is still, Comb out their braids and curls. Robe
of satin and Brussels lace, Knots of flowers and ribbons, too,
Scattered about in every place, For the revel is through. And Maud
and Madge in robes of white, The prettiest night-gowns under the
sun, Stockingless, slipperless, sit in the night, For the revel is done
— Sit and comb their beautiful hair, Those wonderful waves of brown
and gold, Till the fire is out in the chamber there, And the little bare
feet are cold. Then out of the gathering winter chill, All out of the
bitter St. Agnes weather, While the fire is out and the house is still,
Maud and Madge together — Maud and Madge in robes of white,
The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, Curtained away from the
chilly night, After the revel is done — Float along in a splendid
dream, To a golden gittern's tinkling tune, While a thousand lustres
shimmering stream In a palace's grand saloon. Flashing of jewels
and flutter of laces, Tropical odors sweeter than musk, Men and
women with beautiful faces, And eyes of tropical dusk ; And one
face shining out like a star, One face haunting the dreams of each,
And one voice, sweeter than others are, Breaking into silvery speech
— Telling, through lips of bearded bloom, An old, old story over
again, As down the royal bannered room, To the golden gittern's
strain, Two and two, they dreamily walk, While an unseen spirit
walks beside, And all unheard in the lovers' talk, He claimeth one for
a bride. O Maud and Madge, dream on together, With never a pang
of jealous fear ! For, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather Shall whiten
another year, Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb, Braided
brown hair and golden tress, There'll be only one of you left for the
bloom Of the bearded lips to press — Only one for the bridal pearls,
The robe of satin and Brussels lace — Only one to blush through her
curls At the sight of a lover's face. 0 beautiful Madge, in your bridal
white, For you the revel has just begun, But for her who sleeps in
your arms to-night The revel of life is done ! But robed and crowned
with your saintly bliss, Queen of heaven and bride of the sun, 0
beautiful Maud, you'll never miss The kisses another hath won.
NORA PERRY. HOW EASY IT IS. OW easy it is to spoil a day ! The
thoughtless words of cherished friends, The selfish act of a child at
play, The strength of will that will not bend, The slight of a comrade,
the scorn of a foe, The smile that is full of bitter things — They all
can tarnish its golden glow And take the grace from its airy wings.
By the force of a thought we did not check Little by little we mould
the clay, And little flaws may th^ vessel wreck. The careless waste
of a white-winged hour, That held the blessing we long had sought,
The sudden loss of wealth or power — And lo the day is with ill
inwrought.
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accurate

2G0 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. How easy it is to spoil a life — And

many are spoiled ere well begun — In some life darkened by sin and
strife, Or downward course of a cherished one, By toil that robs the
fur in of its grace And undermines till health gives way ; By the
peevish temper, the frowning face, The hopes that go and cares that
stay. A day is too long to be spent in vain. Some good should come
as the hours go by, Some tangled maze may be made more plain,
Some lowered glance may be raised on high, And life is too short to
spoil like this. If only a prelude, it may be sweet ; Let us bind
together its thread of bliss And nourish the flowers around our feet.
JP WE MOVE ON. IS weary, watching wave on wave, And yet the
tide heaves onward ; We build, like corals — grave on grave, But
pave a pathway sunward. We're beaten back in many a fray, Yet
ever strength we borrow ; And where the vanguard rests to-day, The
rear shall camp to-morrow. MY SHIP. OWN to the wharves, as the
sun goes down, And the daylight's tumult and dust and din Are
dying away in the busy town, I go to see if my ship comes in. I gaze
far over the quiet sea. Rosy with sunset, like mellow wine, Where
ships, like lilies, lie tranquilly, Many and fair, but I see not mine. I
question the sailors every night Who over the bulwarks idly lean.
Noting the sails as they come in sight : " Have you seen my beautiful
ship come in?" " Whence does she come ? " they ask of me ; "Who
is her master, and what her name?" And they smile upon me
pityingly When my answer is ever and ever the same Oli mine was a
vessel of strength and truth. Her sails wen' white as a young lamb's
fleece, She sail* <1 long since from the port of Youth — Her master
was Love, and her name was Peace. And like all beloved and
beauteous things, She laded 111 distance and doubt away — With
only a tremble of snowy wings She floated, swan like, adown the
bay, Carrying with her a precious freight — All I had gathered by
years of pain ; A tempting prize to the pirate Fate — And still 1
watch for her back again. Watch from the earliest morning light, Till
the pale stars grieve o'er the dying day, To catch the gleam of her
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