 | Gerard's Monument |  |
A golden missal-cover lay
Nigh finished 'neath the goldsmith's hand;
His thoughts had drifted far away;
His latest touch was on the brand—
The fiery sword the angel held
Before the gates of paradise—
Blinding with utter light the eyes
Of two lone wanderers, sin-expelled.
A touch dropped tender as the breast
Of brooding bird upon its nest
Into the goldsmith's palm; his cheek
Was fanned by one who bent to speak:
“Man's passion is a sword as dire
As this, God's awful love, such fire.”
Nigh finished 'neath the goldsmith's hand;
His thoughts had drifted far away;
His latest touch was on the brand—
The fiery sword the angel held
Before the gates of paradise—
Blinding with utter light the eyes
Of two lone wanderers, sin-expelled.
A touch dropped tender as the breast
Of brooding bird upon its nest
Into the goldsmith's palm; his cheek
Was fanned by one who bent to speak:
“Man's passion is a sword as dire
As this, God's awful love, such fire.”
80
The goldsmith put the touch aside,
And scarcely checked a rising oath;—
“She loves him so that she would chide
Me only for the sin of both.”
And thinking thus, the goldsmith broke
With work, nor made another stroke.
And scarcely checked a rising oath;—
“She loves him so that she would chide
Me only for the sin of both.”
And thinking thus, the goldsmith broke
With work, nor made another stroke.
A bitter, moody man was he
Who leant against the tulip tree,
Or in the twilight round and round
Still paced the narrow garden bound.
A darkened spirit, vexed and sore
Had he who nightly at the door
Eyed Valery, perchance to win
Some tidings as she entered in.
And still her answer was the same
At mention of her brother's name:
“Gerard is sick;” at which reply
He muttered, “So would God were I.”
Who leant against the tulip tree,
Or in the twilight round and round
Still paced the narrow garden bound.
A darkened spirit, vexed and sore
Had he who nightly at the door
Eyed Valery, perchance to win
Some tidings as she entered in.
And still her answer was the same
At mention of her brother's name:
“Gerard is sick;” at which reply
He muttered, “So would God were I.”
| Gerard's Monument | |