 | Gerard's Monument |  |
The goldsmith woke one night alone,—
He sought his love, but she was flown.
He sought her through the house and town,
And out upon the dreary down.
The snow lay like a winding-sheet
Upon the down; the sea was black;
And on the snow two naked feet,
Two little feet, had left a track,—
A line that inwards from the shore
Converged towards St Saviour's door.
Two slender heels were printed there,
Ten little toes in order fair;
The arch between them had not pressed
The sheeted earth, but all was guessed.
He sought his love, but she was flown.
He sought her through the house and town,
And out upon the dreary down.
The snow lay like a winding-sheet
Upon the down; the sea was black;
And on the snow two naked feet,
Two little feet, had left a track,—
A line that inwards from the shore
Converged towards St Saviour's door.
Two slender heels were printed there,
Ten little toes in order fair;
The arch between them had not pressed
The sheeted earth, but all was guessed.
The snow lay like a winding-sheet,
The sea looked like a maiden's pall;
The goldsmith tracked those naked feet;
The stars looked coldly down on all.
The wind through bones and body blew;
The clock of Saviour's Church struck two.
The sea looked like a maiden's pall;
104
The stars looked coldly down on all.
The wind through bones and body blew;
The clock of Saviour's Church struck two.
It was a star and moon-lit night,
And Saviour's Church lay black and white
Betwixt the shadow and the shine;
The shadow fell on Saviour's shrine
And Tyldesley Chapel, but the tomb
Of Gerard rose from out the gloom,—
A burnished pyre whereon there lay
A saintly form that seemed to pray.
And Saviour's Church lay black and white
Betwixt the shadow and the shine;
The shadow fell on Saviour's shrine
And Tyldesley Chapel, but the tomb
Of Gerard rose from out the gloom,—
A burnished pyre whereon there lay
A saintly form that seemed to pray.
Oh, Christ! it was a moving sight,
That face so beautiful, and white
Of its own pallor, and the beam
That smote it with a silvery gleam!
The lids half closed upon the eyes,
The orbs uplifted to the skies
As in an ecstasy of prayer,—
But on the lips a dumb despair.
That face so beautiful, and white
Of its own pallor, and the beam
That smote it with a silvery gleam!
The lids half closed upon the eyes,
The orbs uplifted to the skies
As in an ecstasy of prayer,—
But on the lips a dumb despair.
105
The linen flutings of her gown
From breast to frozen feet swept down;
The slender hands that joined in prayer
Rose upward from the bosom bare.
Her perfect limbs the coffer prest,
As in an agony of rest.
There Valery lay all cold and meek,
With icy tear-drops on her cheek;
So having learnt to pray and weep,
She may attain to holy sleep.
From breast to frozen feet swept down;
The slender hands that joined in prayer
Rose upward from the bosom bare.
Her perfect limbs the coffer prest,
As in an agony of rest.
There Valery lay all cold and meek,
With icy tear-drops on her cheek;
So having learnt to pray and weep,
She may attain to holy sleep.
Fair as she left the goldsmith's bed,
She lay on Gerard's tomb—stone dead.
She lay on Gerard's tomb—stone dead.
The goldsmith sat and watched that white
Still loveliness throughout the night.
And when the monks came in with morn
For matins, still he gazed forlorn.
And when they chaunted noon-day prayer,
The silent worshipper was there.
So,—when in trembling awe they said
The solemn masses for the dead;
And when they wailed the vespers out,
That broke in undertones about,—
They left him there; no heart, no hand
Had strength his purpose to withstand.
Still loveliness throughout the night.
And when the monks came in with morn
For matins, still he gazed forlorn.
And when they chaunted noon-day prayer,
The silent worshipper was there.
So,—when in trembling awe they said
The solemn masses for the dead;
And when they wailed the vespers out,
106
They left him there; no heart, no hand
Had strength his purpose to withstand.
But when they came one murky night,
And hid his love away from sight,
He spoke: “Good people, I have spent
My heart upon this monument,
And I do think that none will dare
Deny me that my work is fair.”
And hid his love away from sight,
He spoke: “Good people, I have spent
My heart upon this monument,
And I do think that none will dare
Deny me that my work is fair.”
He watched that night; and when the dawn
Crept in, he found his treasure gone.
The monument stood hard and bare,
And blank and dull, as his despair;
Till, to ling through the lonely years,
With touches tender as his tears,
He shaped an image of his love,
And laid it in her place above.
And still he works—the fishers say—
At that fair likeness to this day.
And so beneath the restless waves,
That murmur through the hollow caves,
Where Saviour's Church and Tyldesley town
Strangled by sand and sea went down,
You hear that dull persistent sound,
By wildest tempest hardly drowned,—
The goldsmith perfecting some grace
Of memory on the imaged face.
Crept in, he found his treasure gone.
The monument stood hard and bare,
And blank and dull, as his despair;
Till, to ling through the lonely years,
With touches tender as his tears,
He shaped an image of his love,
And laid it in her place above.
And still he works—the fishers say—
At that fair likeness to this day.
And so beneath the restless waves,
That murmur through the hollow caves,
107
Strangled by sand and sea went down,
You hear that dull persistent sound,
By wildest tempest hardly drowned,—
The goldsmith perfecting some grace
Of memory on the imaged face.
Pray that such weary work may cease;
God give all vexëd spirits peace!
God give all vexëd spirits peace!
| Gerard's Monument | |