Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises

Now Love is red, and Wisdom pale,
But human hearts are faint and frail
Till Love meets Love, and bids it hail.

I see the chasm, yawning dread;
I see the flaming arch o'erhead:
I stake my life upon the red.

La couleur

With hair still golden on her head,
Dame Julia of the Valley said.
But Time for her has plans not told,
And while her patient years unfold
They yield the white and not the gold.
Where Alpine summits loftiest lie,
The brown, the green, the red pass by,
And whitest top is next the sky.
And now with meeker garb bedight,
Dame Julia sings in loftier light,
“I stake my life upon the white!”