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XXVII

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.

XXVIII

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.

XXIX

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 :

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

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,
And a statue watches it from the square,
And this story of both do our townsmen tell.

Ages ago, a lady there,
At the farthest window facing the East
Asked, “Who rides by with the royal air?"

The bridesmaids' prattle around her ceased ;
She leaned forth, one on either hand ;
They saw how the blush of the bride increased-

They felt by its beats her heart expand-
As one at each ear and both in a breath
Whispered, “ The Great Duke Ferdinand.”

That self-same instant, underneath,
The Duke rode past in his idle way,
Empty and fine like a swordless sheath.

Gay he rode, with a friend as gay, Till he threw his head back_“Who is she ?" _“A bride the Riccardi brings home to-day."

Hair in heaps lay heavily
Over a pale brow spirit-pure-
Carved like the heart of the coal-black tree,

Crisped like a war-steed's encolure-
And vainly sought to dissemble her eyes
Of the blackest black our eyes endure.

And lo, a blade for a knight's emprise
Filled the fine empty sheath of a man,-
The Duke grew straightway brave and wise.
He looked at her, as a lover can;
She looked at him, as one who awakes :
The past was a sleep, and her life began.

Now, love so ordered for both their sakes,
A feast was held, that self-same night,
In the pile which the mighty shadow makes.

(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,
Through the first republic's murder there
By Cosimo and his cursed son.)

The Duke (with the statue's face in the square)
Turned, in the midst of his multitude,
At the bright approach of the bridal pair.

Face to face the lovers stood
A single minute and no more,
While the bridegroom bent as a man subdued-

Bowed till his bonnet brushed the floor-
For the Duke on the lady a kiss conferred,
As the courtly custom was of yore.

In a minute can lovers exchange a word ?
If a word did pass, which I do not think,
Only one out of the thousand heard.

That was the bridegroom. At day's brink
He and his bride were alone at last
In a bed-chamber by a taper's blink.

Calmly he said that her lot was cast,
That the door she had passed was shut on her
Till the final catafalk repassed.

The world meanwhile, its noise and stir,
Through a certain window facing the East,
She could watch like a convent's chronicler.

Since passing the door might lead to a feast,
And a feast might lead to so much beside,
He, of many evils, chose the least.

“Freely I choose too,” said the bride : “Your window and its world suffice," Replied the tongue, while the heart replied

“If I spend the night with that devil twice, “ May his window serve as my loop of hell “ Whence a damned soul looks on paradise !

“I fly to the Duke who loves me well,
“Sit by his side and laugh at sorrow
“Ere I count another ave-bell.

“'T is only the coat of a page to borrow,
“And tie my hair in a horse-boy's trim,
“And I save my soul-but not to-morrow

(She checked herself and her eye grew dim)

My father tarries to bless my state : “I must keep it one day more for him. “ Is one day more so long to wait ? “Moreover the Duke rides past, I know; “We shall see each other, sure as fate.”

She turned on her side and slept. Just so !
So we resolve on a thing, and sleep :
So did the lady, ages ago.

That night the Duke said, “Dear or cheap “ As the cost of this cup of bliss may prove “ To body or soul, I will drain it deep."

And on the morrow, bold with love, He beckoned the bridegroom (close on call, As his duty bade, by the Duke's alcove) And smiled “'T was a very funeral, “ Your lady will think, this feast of ours, A shame to efface, whate'er befall !

What if we break from the Arno bowers, “ And try if Petraja, cool and green, “ Cure last night's fault with this morning's flowers ?

The bridegroom, not a thought to be seen
On his steady brow and quiet mouth,
Said, “ Too much favour for me so mean !

But, alas ! my lady leaves the South ;
6 Each wind that comes from the Apennine
“ Is a menace to her tender youth :

“ Nor a way exists, the wise opine,
“ If she quits her palace twice this year,
66 To avert the flower of life's decline."

Quoth the Duke, “ A sage and a kindly fear.
“ Mbreover Petraja is cold this spring :
“ Be our feast to-night as usual here ! ”

And then to himself—“ Which night shall bring

Thy bride to her lover's embraces, fool“ Or I am the fool, and thou art the king !

" Yet my passion must wait a night, nor cool-
“For to-night the Envoy arrives from France
“ Whose heart I unlock with thyself, my tool.

“ I need thee still and might miss perchance.

To-day is not wholly lost, beside, “ With its hope of my lady's countenance :

“ For I ride-what should I do but ride?
And, passing her palace, if I list,
May glance at its window-well betide ! »

So said, so done : nor the lady missed
One ray that broke from the ardent brow,
Nor a curl of the lips where the spirit kissed.

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