1 JULY 1899, Page 27

TO THE STOIC WITHIN.

s well," thou Bay'st," to spurn A world will else spurn thee ; Draw in the empty hand, Shut eyes that longing tire ; Since vain it is to yearn,

When most is show we see,— Air flickering on hot sand To mock the sours desire ;- Then welcome knife or fire, And the serene command (0 heavenly cautery !) Which bids an instant burn, To win a life's release, Self-masterdom, sure peace."

Yes, peace is well; but war Better for who can fight, When wronged weakness sues 'Gainst foes to spread a shield. And souls that recreant are Lest wages prove too light, Or maim themselves to excuse Due service in the field, To their own slavery yield ; To gain their life, they lose Life's cause, their love of right, A loss more shameful far

Than shamefurst shame or loss The indifferent world can cause.

Stretch forth thy hands, then; not In expectation vain, But lavishing thy good ; All is not good that's gold.

Advance thine eyes, which sought

Beauty, to seek 't again; But heavenlier understood

Worship what they behold.

And let desire be bold To aim at what it would,

Full joy, surcease of pain,—

To cheer the common lot.

So shall thy world become Not hostile, but a home.

H. C. BEECHING.