Puslapio vaizdai
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But lo! with the light he repented his scorning, For an earthquake had shattered the whole ere the morning;

Of the pearl-coloured dome there was left but a ruin,— But an arch as a home for the ring-dove to coo in.

Shaft, turret and spire-all were tumbled and crumbled; And the soul of the Caliph within him was humbled; And he bowed in the dust:-"There is none great but Allah!

I will build Him a Mosque,”—said the Caliph Abdallah.

And the Caliph has gone to his fathers for ever,
But the Mosque that he builded shines still by the river;
And the pilgrims up-stream to this day slacken sail if
They catch the first gleam of the "Mosque of the Caliph."

IN THE BELFRY.

WRITTEN UNDER RETHEL'S "DEATH, THe friend."

TOLL! ! Is it night, or daylight yet?

Somewhere the birds seem singing still,

Though surely now the sun has set.

Toll! But who tolls the Bell once more?
He must have climbed the parapet.
Did I not bar the belfry door?

Who can it be?—the Bernardine,
That used to pray with me of yore?
No,-for the monk was not so lean.

This must be He who, legend saith,
Comes sometimes with a kindlier mien
And tolls a knell.-This shape is Death!

Good-bye, old Bell! So let it be.
How strangely now I draw my breath!
What is this haze of light I see? ...

IN MANUS TUAS, DOMINE!

ARS VICTRIX.

(IMITATED FROM THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.)

ES; 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,
Choose rather thou to wear

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 ;

[blocks in formation]

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; But, that the work surpass, With the hard fashion fight,With the resisting mass.

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