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...each to other, The vaulted blaze overhead Of their vast pinions spread, ed in The Hound of Heaven: I dimly guess what time in mists confounds; Yet ever and anon a trumpet aounds From the hid battlements of Eternity, Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsfed...

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...sighful branches of my mind. Such is ; what is to be ? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ? I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds ; Yet ever...Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again ; But not ere him who summoneth I first have seen, enwound...

...man to contemplate unmoved. The shadow of Death is over him ; the pains of Hurlas take hold upon him. I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds ; Yet ever...Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again ; But not ere him who summoneth I first have seen, enwound...

...and unnoticed in the light of his excellencies. We cannot chide the man who wrote the passage: '• I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds. Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds From the hidden battlements of Eternity." And if his field for the future is to be, as Pattnore says, "the inexhaustible...

...haunts of nature, only to find that "Nature, poor stepdame," could not slake its drought. Then " . . . Ever and anon a trumpet sounds From the hid battlements of Eternity," calljng the wanderer back to its true home. The note that rang out on the clear air was truly one of...

...the sky." Here is a poet's vision as limpid as one of his native streams, shining clear as a star: "I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds, Yet ever...Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again." And here again in a single line is a poet's seeing: "And...

...has imagery had a finer cosmic scope and magnificence of colour than in the following passages : — "I dimly guess what time in mists confounds ; Yet...Round the half -glimpsed turrets slowly wash again." ****** " The calm hour strikes on yon golden gong, In tones of floating and mellow light A spreading...

...Passion sometimes blows Away her soul and sets her blood on fire. EXCURSIONS. EXCURSIONS. ADRIFT. / dimly guess what Time in mists confounds, Yet ever...trumpet sounds From the hid battlements of Eternity. — Francis Thompson A Siren music, bidding all rejoice In this dear home and haven, summons me On...