II Too white, for the flower of life is red; To just see earth, and hardly be seen, III Yet earth saw one thing, one how fair! IV Hair, such a wonder of flix and floss, Freshness and fragrance-floods of it, too! Gold, did I say? Nay, gold 's mere dross : Here, Life smiled, "Think what I meant to do!" And Love sighed, "Fancy my loss!" V So, when she died, it was scarce more strange VI That, while the breath was nearly to seek, VII "Not my hair!" made the girl her moan— "All the rest is gone or to go; “But the last, last grace, my all, my own, "Let it stay in the grave, that the ghosts may know! "Leave my poor gold hair alone!" VIII The passion thus vented, dead lay she : IX But curled around her brow, like a crown, X All kissed that face, like a silver wedge As he planted the crucifix with care XI And thus was she buried, inviolate Of body and soul, in the very space XII And in after-time would your fresh tear fall, Though your mouth might twitch with a dubious smile, As they told you of gold both robe and pall, How she prayed them leave it alone awhile, So it never was touched at all. XIII Years flew; this legend grew at last Of lover and friend, was summed in one XIV To wit, she was meant for heaven, not earth ; XV At little pleasant Pornic church, It chanced, the pavement wanted repair, Was taken to pieces: left in the lurch, A certain sacred space lay bare, And the boys began research. XVI 'T was the space where our sires would lay a saint, A benefactor, a bishop, suppose, A baron with armour-adornments quaint, Dame with chased ring and jewelled rose Things sanctity saves from taint ; XVII So we come to find them in after-days When the corpse is presumed to have done with gauds Of use to the living, in many ways: For the boys get pelf, and the town applauds, And the church deserves the praise. XVIII They grubbed with a will: and at length-O cor They found-no gaud they were prying for, No ring, no rose, but-who would have guessed?— A double Louis-d'or ! XIX Here was a case for the priest: he heard, Marked, inwardly digested, laid Finger on nose, smiled, "A little bird Chirps in my ear: " then, " Bring a spade, "Dig deeper!"-he gave the word. XX And lo, when they came to the coffin-lid, XXI Hid there? Why? Could the girl be wont (She the stainless soul) to treasure up Money, earth's trash and heaven's affront? Had a spider found out the communion-cup, Was a toad in the christening-font? XXII Truth is truth: too true it was. Gold! She hoarded and hugged it first, Longed for it, leaned o'er it, loved it— alasTill the humour grew to a head and burst, And she cried, at the final pass,— XXIII "Talk not of God, my heart is stone ! "Nor lover nor friend-be gold for both! "Gold I lack; and, my all, my own, "It shall hide in my hair. I scarce die loth "If they let my hair alone!" XXIV Louis-d'ors, some six times five, Now, do you see? With the priest to shrive, XXV With heaven's gold gates about to ope, With friends' praise, gold-like, lingering still, An instinct had bidden the girl's hand grope For gold, the true sort—“Gold in heaven, if you will; "But I keep earth's too, I hope." XXVI Enough! The priest took the grave's grim yield: The parents, they eyed that price of sin As if thirty pieces lay revealed On the place to bury strangers in, The hideous Potter's Field. |