26 MARCH 1892, Page 15



A HUNDRED paces from the human tide That fills the Strand; one crooked street, and soon Behold a silent world of waters wide, Lit by a wandering moon.

The sleeping bridges, mute as in a dream, The gradual curve of lights on either shore, A barge that swings across the shifting stream, The distant London roar.

This alchemy of heaven upon the earth !

The soul of beauty bursts through mortal bars ; Night makes her music of the city's mirth, And of the gas-lamps, stars.

Ah ! would the cosmic powers that rule our strife Perfect even so thy failures, Love, and mine, And weave from out the broken threads of life A tapestry divine.

We know not : only, in these moments rare When body seems but spirit's envelope, We look upon the earth, and find it fair, On heaven, and there is hope. E. K. CHAMBERS.