Even on the white English crags A few strong spirits, in a race that binds Its body in chains and calls them Liberty, And calls each fresh link Progr… - Robert Williams Buchanan

O Balder, he who fashion'd us, And bade us live and move, Shall weave for Death's sad heavenly hair Immortal flowers of love. "Ah! never fail'd my servant Death, Whene'er I named his name,— But at my bidding he hath flown As swift as frost or flame. "Yea, as a sleuth-hound tracks a man, And finds his form, and springs, So hath he hunted down the gods As well as human things! "Yet only thro' the strength of Death A god shall fall or rise — A thousand lie on the cold snows, Stone still, with marble eyes. "But whosoe'er shall conquer Death, Tho' mortal man he be, Shall in his season rise again, And live, with thee, and me! "And whosoe'er loves mortals most Shall conquer Death the best, Yea, whosoe'er grows beautiful Shall grow divinely blest." The white Christ raised his shining face To that still bright'ning sky. "Only the beautiful shall abide, Only the base shall die!"

Along the melting shores of earth An emerald flame there ran, Forest and field grew bright, and mirth Gladdened the flocks of man. Then glory grew on earth and heaven, Full glory of full day! Then the bright rainbow's colours seven On every iceberg lay! In Balder's hand Christ placed His own,
And it was golden weather, And on that berg as on a throne The Brethren stood together! And countless voices far and wide Sang sweet beneath the sky — "All that is beautiful shall abide, All that is base shall die.".

I saw the starry Tree
Eternity
Put forth the blossom Time.