SUB PONDERE CRESCIT 333 
Now more sombre and more slow 
Let the incantation grow ! 
Cast in shreds of rapture brief, 
Subtle links ’twixt hope and grief ; 
Vagrant fancy’s dangerous toys ; 
Covert dreams, narcotic joys 
Flavored with the taste of sin: 
Memory, pour the rose-leaves in ! 
Quit that borderland of pain ! 
Cast in thoughts of nobler vein, 
Magic gifts of human breath, 
Mysteries of birth and death. 
What if all this web of change 
But prepare for scenes more strange; 
If to die be to begin ? 
Memory, heap the rose-leaves in! 
SUB PONDERE CRESCIT 
Can this be he, whose morning footstep trod 
O’er the green earth as in a regal home? 
Whose voice rang out beneath the skyey 
dome 
Like the high utterance of a youthful god ? 
Now with wan looks and eyes that seek the sod, 
Restless and purposeless as ocean foam, 
Across the twilight fields I see him roam 
With shoulders bowed, as shrinking from the 
rod, 
