Part 2 — TO E. G., DEDICATING A BOOK.

A broken tale of endless things, Take, lady: thou art not of those Who in what vale a fountain springs Would have its journey close.

Countless beginnings, fair first parts, Leap to the light, and shining flow; All broken things, or toys or hearts, Are mended where they go.

Then down thy stream, with hope-filled sail, Float faithful fearless on, loved friend; 'Tis God that has begun the tale And does not mean to end.