II.— A DEMONSTRATION.

Nature, with endless being rife,

Parts each thing into‘ him’ and‘ her,’

And, in the arithmetic of life,

The smallest unit is a pair;

And thus, oh, strange, sweet half of me,

If I confess a loftier flame,

If more I love high Heaven than thee,

I more than love thee, thine I am;

And, if the world's not built of lies,

Nor all a cheat the Gospel tells,

If that which from the dead shall rise

Be I indeed, not something else,

There's no position more secure

In reason or in faith than this,

That those conditions must endure,

Which, wanting, I myself should miss.