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100
A LEGEND OF TOULOUSE.
A legend that in earliest youth
I read, remembered well—
A legend that in deepest ruth
And awe I read, and held for truth,
Is this that now I tell;
A legend was it of a youth,
Who, as it then befell,
From out his evil soul the trace
Had blotted out of guiding grace,
Abjured both heaven and hell;
That once unto a meadow fair,
(Heaven shield the desperate!)
Impelled by some dark secret snare,
Repaired, and to the burning sky
Of summer noon flung up on high,
A dagger meant for God's own heart,
And spake unto himself apart
Words that make desolate.
I read, remembered well—
A legend that in deepest ruth
And awe I read, and held for truth,
Is this that now I tell;
A legend was it of a youth,
Who, as it then befell,
From out his evil soul the trace
Had blotted out of guiding grace,
Abjured both heaven and hell;
That once unto a meadow fair,
(Heaven shield the desperate!)
Impelled by some dark secret snare,
Repaired, and to the burning sky
Of summer noon flung up on high,
A dagger meant for God's own heart,
101
Words that make desolate.
There came from out the cloudless sky
A hand, the dagger's hilt
That caught, and then fell presently
Five drops, for mortal guilt
From Christ's dear wounds once freely spilt;
And then a little leaf there fell
To that youth's foot through miracle—
A leaf whereon was plain
These words, these only words enwrit,
Enwritten not in vain,
Oh! miserere mei; then
A mourner, among mourning men,
A sinner, sinner slain
Through love and grace abounding, he
Sank down on lowly bended knee,
Looked up to heaven and cried,
“Have mercy, mercy, Lord, on me
For His dear sake, who on the tree
Shed forth those drops and died!
A hand, the dagger's hilt
That caught, and then fell presently
Five drops, for mortal guilt
From Christ's dear wounds once freely spilt;
And then a little leaf there fell
To that youth's foot through miracle—
A leaf whereon was plain
These words, these only words enwrit,
Enwritten not in vain,
Oh! miserere mei; then
A mourner, among mourning men,
A sinner, sinner slain
Through love and grace abounding, he
Sank down on lowly bended knee,
Looked up to heaven and cried,
“Have mercy, mercy, Lord, on me
For His dear sake, who on the tree
Shed forth those drops and died!
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