Classic Poem

Der junge Franziskaner sitzt

The young Franciscan sits alone
Within his cloister-cell;
He reads a book of magic called
" The Mastery of Hell. "

And as the midnight hour strikes,
He raves and calls upon
The powers of the Underworld,
And cries, distraught and wan:

" For this one night, you spirits, raise
From all the hosts that died
The fairest woman — give her life,
And place her at my side. "

He breathes the aweful, secret word,
And, answering his commands,
In white and drooping cerements
The perished Beauty stands.

Her face is sad. With frightened sighs
Her poor, cold breasts are stirred.
She sits beside the startled monk.
They stare — without a word . . .