366 MORE POT-POURRI 



In Florence, with the sky and the sunshine and the 

 whole mind in a receptive condition, no effort was nec- 

 essary fully to appreciate 'Romola.' What a difference 

 that does make ! Reading some books at unfavourable 

 times is as great an injustice towards the author as look- 

 ing at pictures, no matter how beautiful, in the dark. 



June 19th. — Sad news has come from England to-day 

 of the death of Sir Edward Burne- Jones. What a loss! 



The following very simple little poem by Byron — not 

 much known, I think — is not modern in feeling, but fits 

 singularly, for those who believe in spirit-land, the 

 death of a man like Burne -Jones : 



Bright be the place of thy soul! 



No lovelier spirit than thine 

 E'er burst from its mortal control 



In the orbs of the blessed to shine. 



On earth thou wert all but divine, 



As thy soul shall immortally be ; 

 And our sorrow shall cease to repine 



When we know that thy God is with thee. 



Light be the turf of thy tomb! 



May its verdure like emeralds be I 

 There should not be the shadow of gloom 



In aught that reminds us of thee. 



Young flowers and an evergreen tree 

 May spring from the spot of thy rest; 



But no Cypress nor Yew let us see. 

 For why should we mourn for the blest? 



Those who do not believe in spirit -land in any think- 

 able form — and I fancy they are many more than is 

 generally supposed — when brought face to face with 

 death, mourn not for the peace and rest of those that 

 are gone, but for themselves — their own personal grief 

 and loss and misery — and feel a kind of humiliation that 



