IT IS A QUESTION ENDLESS THAT WE CHASE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 11026, 14 March 1914, Page 6

IT IS A QUESTION ENDLESS THAT WE CHASE.

You- say. but with no touch of scorn. Swcet-lieartcd, you, whoso light-blue . eyes Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil-born.

I know not; 0110 indeed I know in many a subtle question vorsed, Who touched' a jarring lyre at first, But oyer strove to make it true:

Perplexed in faith, but pure in deeds, At last lie beat his musio out; There lives more faith in honest doubt,Believe me, than in half the creeds.

Ho fought his doubts find gathered strength, Ho would not make his judgment blind, Ho faced the spectres of his mind And' laid them: thus ho came at length

To find a stronger faith his own; And Power was with him in the night, Which makes the darkness and' the light, And dwells not in the light alone.

But in tho darkness and tho cloud, As over Sinai's peaks of old, While Israel made their gods of gold, Although the trumpet blew so loud. *«■ » a * My love has talked with rocks and trees; Ho finds on misty mountain-ground His own vast shadow glory-crowned; Ho sees himself in all he sees.

Two partners of a married life, — I looked on these, and thought of thee In vastness and in mystery, And of my spirit as of a wife.

These two —they dwelt with oye on eye, Their lioarts of old have beat in tune, Their meetings made December June, Their every parting was to d!e.

Their love has never passed away; The days she never can forget Are earnest that he loves ner yet, Whate'er the faithless, people say.

Her life is lone, 110 sits apart, He loves her yet, she will not weep, Though rapt in matters dark and deep Ho seems to slight her simplo heart.

He thrids the labyrinth of the mind, He 1 pads the secret of the star, He seems so near and yet so far, He looks so cold; she thinks liim kind,

She koeps the gift of years beforo, ' A withered violet is her bliss; She knows not what his greatness is; For that, for all, she loves him more.

For him she plays ; to him she sings Of early faith and plighted vows; She knows but matters of the house, And ho, he knows a thousand things.

Her faith is fixed and cannot move, She darkly feels him. great and' wise, She dwells on him with faithful eyes, "I cannot understand: I love." —From Tennyson's "In Memoriaju."