English

Ay, this is he — the statue rather battered
Of Cre├ºi Church — alive and full of vigour.
The ancient statuary by no means flattered,
Lord Hugo; he is brave, jollier, bigger,
As well I see, when through the groups all scattered
He moves towards me, a stupendous figure,
And gravely says, " You recognise my face
Of course. I am the Founder of your Race ".

Above the fire-place, where great red logs smoulder,
Although it is the heart of summer tide,
Painted full length, no younger and no older,
Than at this moment standing by its side,
I recognise . . . and faith! my blood runs colder
Somewhat . . . Myself . Yes, in my prime and pride,
Eyes that look dreamy, lip that arches merrily . . .
Myself , by Zeus. 'Tis a strange meeting, verily.

CANTO XXXIII.

Argument.

St. Bernard's prayer to the Virgin. — Dante beholds the unveiled glory of God: there, his human strength fails, and the Vision ends.

" O Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son,
Most lowly and most lofty being e'er
Created, scope of all that hath been done
In God's eternal counsel! thou such fair
Nobility didst on our nature shower,
That he who made it did that nature wear.

Espilus . Silvanus long in love, and long in vain,
At length obtained the point of his desire,
When being asked, now that he did obtain
His wished weal, what more he could require:
" Nothing," said he, " for most I joy in this,
That goddess mine my blessed being sees."

Therion . When wanton Pan , deceived with lion's skin,
Came to the bed where wound for kiss he got,
To woe and shame the wretch did enter in,

Therion . Come, Espilus , come now declare thy skill;
Show how thou canst deserve so brave desire;
Warm well thy wits, if thou wilt win her will,
For water cold did never promise fire:
Great sure is she, on whom our hopes do live;
Greater is she who must the judgement give.

Espilus . Tune up, my voice, a higher note I yield;
To high conceits the song must needs be high,
More high than stars, more firm than flinty field

To one whose state is raised over all,
Whose face doth oft the bravest sort enchant,
Whose mind is such, as wisest minds appal,
Who in one self these diverse gifts can plant;
How dare I, wretch, seek there my woes to rest,
Where ears be burnt, eyes dazzled, hearts oppressed?

Your state is great, your greatness is our shield,
Your face hurts oft, but still it doth delight,
Your mind is wise, your wisdom makes you mild;
Such planted gifts enrich e'en beggars' sight:
So dare I, wretch, my bashful fear subdue,

A VICTORIAN MYSTERY

( In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing .)

Satan . To-day is the Lord's " day. " Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old-world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!

Mrs Jaypher found a wafer
Which she stuck upon a note;
This she took and gave the cook.
Then she went and bought a boat
Which she paddled down the stream
Shouting, " Ice produces cream,
Beer when churned produces butter!
Henceforth all the words I utter
Distant ages thus shall note —
From the Jaypher Wisdom-Boat."

Mrs Jaypher said, " It's safer,
If you've Lemons in your head,
First to eat a pound of meat,
And then to go at once to bed.
Eating meat is half the battle,

[The death of a favourite]

Old Men not staid with Age, Virgins with shame,
Late Wives with losse of Husbands, Mothers of Children,
Loosing all griefe in joy of his sad fall,
Runne quite transported with their cruelty:
These mounting at his head, these at his face,
These digging out his eyes, those with his braine,
Sprinkling themselves, their houses, and their friends:
Others are met, have ravish'd thence an arme,
And deale small pieces of the flesh for Favors;
These with a thigh; this hath cut off his hands;

ZEPHYRUS
Come forth, come forth, the gentle Spring,
And carry the glad news I bring
To earth, our common mother:
It is decreed by all the gods
The heaven of earth shall have no odds,
But one shall love another.

Their glories they shall mutual make,
Earth look on heaven for heaven's sake;
Their honours shall be even;
All emulation cease, and jars;
Jove will have earth to have her stars
And lights, no less than heaven.
SPRING

It is already done, in flowers
As fresh and new as are the hours,