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IN THE DOORWAY.
*HE swallow has set her six young on the rail,
And looks seaward :
To the leeward; —
Our fig-tree, that leaned for the saltness, has furled
Her five fingers,
Where there lingers
Yet here are we two; we have love, house enough,
With the field there,
Though it yield there,
But why must cold spread ? but wherefore bring change
To the spirit,
GOOD, gigantic smile o' the brown old earth,
This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth ;
Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.
That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;
Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. If you loved only what were worth your love, Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you :
Make the low nature better by your throes ! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above!