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BIRTHDAY ODE.
Lower than the lightnings of its waves, and thunders
Of seas less monstrous than the births they bred;
Keep high there heart and head,
And conquer: then for prize of all toils past
Feel the sea close them in again at last.
A day of direr doom arisen thereafter ant. 11
With cloud and fire in strife
Lightens and darkens life
Round one by man's hand masked with living laughter,420
A man by men bemonstered, but by love,
Watched with blind eyes as of a wakeful dove,
And wooed by lust, that in her rosy den
As fire on flesh feeds on the souls of men,
To take the intense impure
Burnt-offering of her lure,
