A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN. "No formless Future blurs the sky; Men mourn not here, with dull dead eye, At "Heaven" she ceased ;-and lifted up With rounded mouth, and eyes aglow; The lit leaves laughed,-sky shook, and lo, And now, O Flowers, -Ye that indeed are dead, Now for all waiting hours, Well am I comforted; For of a surety, now, I see, Of tears, or weariness, 197 My Lady, verily, awaiteth me; For my dear Lady's sake I am right fain to make Out from my pain a pillow, and to take And, in the holding of my dear Love's hand, THE DYING OF TANNEGUY DU BOIS. 199 THE DYING OF TANNEGUY DU BOIS. "En los nidas antaño no hay pajaros hogaño." LAST WORDS OF DON QUIXOTE. VEA, I am passed away, I think, from this; YEA Nor helps me herb, nor any leechcraft here, But lift me hither the sweet cross to kiss, And witness ye, I go without a fear. Yea, I am sped, and never more shall see, As once I dreamed, the show of shield and crest, Gone southward to the fighting by the sea ;There is no bird in any last year's nest! Yea, with me now all dreams are done, I ween, Moving at morn on some Burgundian wall; Is she a dream I left in Acquitaine ?— My wife Giselle,—who never spoke a word, Although I knew her mouth was drawn with pain, Her eyelids hung with tears; and though I heard The strong sob shake her throat, and saw the cord Her necklace made about it ;-she that prest Ah! I had hoped, God wot,—had longed that she Me, coming riding by the windy lea Me, coming back again to her, Giselle; Yea, I had hoped once more to hear him call, The curly-pate, who, rushen lance in rest, Stormed at the lilies by the orchard wall ;There is no bird in any last year's nest ! But how, my Masters, ye are wrapt in gloom! This Death will come, and whom he loves he cleaves Sheer through the steel and leather; hating whom Give ye good hap, then, all. For me, I lie THE MOSQUE of the CALIPH. 201 THE MOSQUE OF THE CALIPH. NTO Seyd the vizier spake the Caliph Abdallah :"Now hearken and hear, I am weary, by Allah! I am faint with the mere over-running of leisure; I will rouse me and rear up a palace to Pleasure !" To Abdallah the Caliph spake Seyd the vizier : Then the Caliph that heard, with becoming sedateness, Drew his hand down his beard as he thought of his great ness; Drained out the last bead of the wine in the chalice: "I have spoken, O Seyd; I will build it, my palace! "As a drop from the wine where the wine-cup hath spilled it, As a gem from the mine, O my Seyd, I will build it; Without price, without flaw, it shall stand for a token That the word is a law which the Caliph hath spoken!" |