IN THE BELFRY. WRITTEN UNDER RETHEL'S "DEATH, THE FRIEND." 'OLL! Is it night, or daylight yet? TOLL! Somewhere the birds seem singing still, Though surely now the sun has set. Toll! But who tolls the Bell once more? Who can it be?—the Bernardine, This must be He who, legend saith, Good-bye, old Bell! So let it be. IN MANUS TUAS, Domine! ARS VICTRIX. (IMITATED FROM THEOPHILE GAUTIER.) VES; when the ways oppose— YES When the hard means rebel, Fairer the work out-grows,— More potent far the spell. O Poet, then, forbear The loosely-sandalled verse, The buskin-strait and terse; Leave to the tiro's hand The limp and shapeless style; See that thy form demand The labour of the file. Sculptor, do thou discard The yielding clay,--consign To Paros marble hard The beauty of thy line ; Model thy Satyr's face For bronze of Syracuse; Enduring stays to us; The Bust out-lasts the throne, The Coin, Tiberius; Even the gods must go ; Only the lofty Rhyme Not countless years o'erthrow,— Not long array of time. Paint, chisel, then, or write; |