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. 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.) 'ES; when the ways oppose. YE 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 SCULPTOR, do thou discard The yielding clay, — consign To Paros marble hard The beauty of thy line; Model thy Satyr's face PAINTER, that still must mix Thou in the furnace fix The firm enamel's hue; Let the smooth tile receive Coiled in a wash of wine. All passes. ART alone 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. |