Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/34

 A roofless ruin lies my home, For winds to blow and rains to pour ; One frosty night befell, and lo, I find my summer days are o'er : The heart bereaved, of why and how Unknowing, knows that yet before It had what e'en to Memory now Returns no more, no more.

seen higher holier things than these, And therefore must to these refuse my heart, Yet am I panting for a little ease; I’ll take, and so depart.

Ah, hold! the heart is prone to fall away, Her high and cherished visions to forget, And if thou takest, how wilt thou repay So vast, so dread a debt?

How will the heart, which now thou trustest, then Corrupt, yet in corruption mindful yet, Turn with sharp stings upon itself! Again, Bethink thee of the debt!

— Hast thou seen higher, holier things than these, And therefore must to these thy heart refuse? With the true best, alack, how ill agrees That best that thou would’st choose!

The Summum Pulchrum rests in heaven above; Do thou, as best thou may’st, thy duty do Amid the things allowed thee live and love; Some day thou shalt it view.