11.

And thus was she buried, inviolate
Of body and soul, in the very space
By the altar; keeping saintly state

In Pornic church, for her pride of race,
Pure life, and piteous fate.

12.

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.

13.

Years flew; this legend grew at last
The life of the lady; all she had done,
All been, in the memories fading fast

Of lover and friend, was summed in one
Sentence survivors passed:

14.

To wit, she was meant for Heaven, not earth;
Had turned an angel before the time:
Yet, since she was mortal, in such dearth
Of frailty, all you could count a crime
Was--she knew her gold hair's worth.

15.

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.

16.

'Twas the space where our sires would lay a saint,

A benefactor,-a bishop, suppose,

A baron with armour-adornments quaint,

A dame with chased ring and jewelled rose, Things sanctity saves from taint;

17.

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.

18.

They grubbed with a will: and at length-O cor
Humanum, pectora cæca, and the rest!—

They found no gauds they were prying for,

No ring, no rose, but—who would have guessed ?—— A double Louis-d'or!

19.

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.

20.

And lo, when they came to the coffin-lid,
Or the rotten planks which composed it once,
Why, there lay the girl's skull wedged amid
A mint of money, it served for the nonce
To hold in its hair-heaps hid!

21.

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?

22.

Truth is truth: too true it was.

Gold! She hoarded and hugged it first, Longed for it, leaned o'er it, loved it—alas

Till the humour grew to a head and burst, And she cried, at the final pass,

23.

"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!"

24.

Louis-d'ors, some six times five,

And duly double, every piece.

Now, do you see? With the priest to shrive,
With parents preventing her soul's release
By kisses that kept alive,-

25.

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."

26.

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.

D

27.

But the priest bethought him: "Milk that 's spilt'
-You know the adage! Watch and pray!

Saints tumble to earth with so slight a tilt!
It would build a new altar; that, we may!"
And the altar therewith was built.

28.

Why I deliver this horrible verse?

As the text of a sermon, which now I preach: Evil or good may be better or worse

In the human heart, but the mixture of each Is a marvel and a curse.

29.

The candid incline to surmise of late

That the Christian faith may be false, I find; For our Essays-and-Reviews' debate

Begins to tell on the public mind, And Colenso's words have weight:

30.

I still, to suppose it true, for my part,

See reasons and reasons; this, to begin :
'Tis the faith that launched point-blank her dart
At the head of a lie-taught Original Sin,
The Corruption of Man's Heart.