England's Antiphon

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The wish, that of the living whole

No life may fail beyond the grave; Derives it not from what we have

The likest God within the soul?

Are God and Nature then at strife,

That Nature lends such evil dreams, So careful of the type she seems,

So careless of the single life;

That I, considering everywhere

Her secret meaning in her deeds, And finding that of fifty seeds

She often brings but one to bear;

falter where I firmly trod,
And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs

That slope thro' darkness up to God;

stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all,

And faintly trust the larger hope.


"... he was dead, and there he sits, And he that brought him back is there."]

Once more, this is how he uses the gospel-tale: Mary has returned home from the sepulchre, with Lazarus so late its prey, and her sister and Jesus:--

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