I. I thought once how Theocritus had sung

I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was ‘ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair；
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, -
"Guess now who holds thee!" -
"Death," I said,
But, there,
The silver answer rang, "Not death, but Love."

II. But only three in all God‘s universe

But only three in all God‘s universe
Have heard this word thou hast said,--himself, beside
Thee speaking, and me listening! and replied
One of us . . . that was God, . . . and laid the curse
So dark

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