« ПретходнаНастави »
They grubbed with a will : and at length, cor
Humanum, pectora cæca, and the rest ! 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.
Or rotten planks which composed it once,
A mint of money, it served for the nonce To hold in its hair-heaps hid !
(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?
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,
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,
And duly double, every piece.
With parents preventing her soul's release
xxv. With heaven's gold gates about to ope,
With friends' praise, gold-like, lingering still, An instinct had hidden the girl's hand grope
For gold, the true sort—“ Gold in heaven, if you will; “ But I keep earth’s too, I hope.”
The parents, they eyed that price of sin
On the place to bury strangers in,
“ —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.
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.
That the Christian faith may be false, I find; For our Essays-and-Reviews' debate
Begins to tell on the public mind,
See reasons and reasons; this, to begin : 'T is the faith that launched point-blank her dart
At the head of a lie-taught Original Sin, The Corruption of Man's Heart."
THE STATUE AND THE BUST.
THERE 's a palace in Florence, the world knows well,
Ages ago, a lady there,
The bridesmaids' prattle around her ceased;
They felt by its beats her heart expand-
That self-same instant, underneath,
Gay he rode, with a friend as gay,
Hair in heaps lay heavily
Crisped like a war-steed's encolure-
And lo, a blade for a knight's emprise
He looked at her, as a lover can;
Now, love so ordered for both their sakes,
(For Via Larga is three parts light, But the palace overshadows one, Because of a crime which may God requite !
To Florence and God the wrong was done,
The Duke (with the statue's face in the square)