7 JULY 1894, Page 25



I THINK the immortal servants of mankind, Who, from their graves, watch by how slow degrees` The World-Soul greatens with the centuries, Mourn most Man's barren levity of mind,— The ear to no grave harmonies inclined, The witless thirst for false wit's worthless lees, The laugh mistimed in tragic presences, The eye to all majestic meanings blind.

0 prophets, martyrs, saviours, ye were great,. All truth being great to you : ye deemed Man more Than a dull jest, God's ennui to amuse : The world, for you, held purport : Life ye wore Proudly, as Kings their solemn robes of state; And humbly, as the mightiest monarchs use.