Friendship.

[From "Letters of Julius to Raphael," an unpublished Novel.]      Friend! the Great Ruler, easily content,      Needs not the laws it has laborious been      The task of small professors to invent;      A single wheel impels the whole machine      Matter and spirit; yea, that simple law,      Pervading nature, which our Newton saw.      This taught the spheres, slaves to one golden rein,      Their radiant labyrinths to weave around      Creation's mighty hearts: this made the chain,      Which into interwoven systems bound      All spirits streaming to the spiritual sun      As brooks that ever into ocean run!      Did not the same strong mainspring urge and guide      Our hearts to meet in love's eternal bond?      Linked to thine arm, O Raphael, by thy side      Might I aspire to reach to souls beyond      Our earth, and bid the bright ambition go      To that perfection which the angels know!      Happy, O happy I have found thee I      Have out of millions found thee, and embraced;      Thou, out of millions, mine! Let earth and sky      Return to darkness, and the antique waste      To chaos shocked, let warring atoms be,      Still shall each heart unto the other flee!      Do I not find within thy radiant eyes      Fairer reflections of all joys most fair?      In thee I marvel at myself the dyes      Of lovely earth seem lovelier painted there,      And in the bright looks of the friend is given      A heavenlier mirror even of the heaven!      Sadness casts off its load, and gayly goes      From the intolerant storm to rest awhile,      In love's true heart, sure haven of repose;      Does not pain's veriest transports learn to smile      From that bright eloquence affection gave      To friendly looks? there, finds not pain a grave?      In all creation did I stand alone,      Still to the rocks my dreams a soul should find,      Mine arms should wreathe themselves around the stone,      My griefs should feel a listener in the wind;      My joy its echo in the caves should be!      Fool, if ye will Fool, for sweet sympathy!      We are dead groups of matter when we hate;      But when we love we are as gods! Unto      The gentle fetters yearning, through each state      And shade of being multiform, and through      All countless spirits (save of all the sire)      Moves, breathes, and blends, the one divine desire.      Lo! arm in arm, through every upward grade,      From the rude mongrel to the starry Greek,      Who the fine link between the mortal made,      And heaven's last seraph everywhere we seek      Union and bond till in one sea sublime      Of love be merged all measure and all time!      Friendless ruled God His solitary sky;      He felt the want, and therefore souls were made,      The blessed mirrors of his bliss! His eye      No equal in His loftiest works surveyed;      And from the source whence souls are quickened, He      Called His companion forth ETERNITY!