Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/22

 It was a sight to see and bless, That little sister's tenderness; One hand a tidy basket bore Of flowers and fruit a chosen store, Such as kind friends oft send to others And one was fastened in her brother's.

It was a voice of meaning sweet, And spake amid that scene of strife Of home and homely duties meet, And charities of daily life; And often, should my spirit fail, And under cold strange glances quail, 'Mid busy shops and busier throng, That speed upon their ways along The thick and crowded thoroughfare, I'll call to mind that little pair.

is a golden thread, seen here and there In small bright specks upon the visible side Of our strange being's party-coloured web. How rich the converse! 'Tis a vein of ore Emerging now and then on Earth's rude breast, But flowing full below. Like islands set At distant intervals on Ocean's face, We see it on our course; but in the depths The mystic colonnade unbroken keeps Its faithful way, invisible but sure. Oh, if it be so, wherefore do we men Pass by so many marks, so little heeding?