19.

"By the torture, prolonged from age to age, By the infamy, Israel's heritage,

By the Ghetto's plague, by the garb's disgrace, By the badge of shame, by the felon's place, By the branding-tool, the bloody whip,

And the summons to Christian fellowship,

20.

"We boast our proofs, that at least the Jew Would wrest Christ's name from the Devil's crew.

Thy face took never so deep a shade

But we fought them in it, God our aid!

A trophy to bear, as we march, a band
South, east, and on to the Pleasant Land!"

[The present Pope abolished this bad business of the sermon. -. - R. B.]

THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL:

A PICTURE AT FANO.

1.

DEAR and great Angel, wouldst thou only leave
That child, when thou hast done with him, for me!

Let me sit all the day here, that when eve

Shall find performed thy special ministry And time come for departure, thou, suspending Thy flight, mayst see another child for tending, Another still, to quiet and retrieve.

2.

Then I shall feel thee step one step, no more,
From where thou standest now, to where I gaze,
And suddenly my head be covered o'er

With those wings, white above the child who prays
Now on that tomb and I shall feel thee guarding
Me, out of all the world; for me, discarding
Yon heaven thy home, that waits and opes its door!

3.

I would not look up thither past thy head

Because the door opes, like that child, I know,

For I should have thy gracious face instead,
Thou bird of God! And wilt thou bend me low
Like him, and lay, like his, my hands together,
And lift them up to pray, and gently tether

Me, as thy lamb there, with thy garment's spread?

4.

If this was ever granted, I would rest

My head beneath thine, while thy healing hands Close-covered both my eyes beside thy breast,

Pressing the brain, which too much thought expands Back to its proper size again, and smoothing Distortion down till every nerve had soothing, And all lay quiet, happy and supprest.

5.

How soon all worldly wrong would be repaired!
I think how I should view the earth and skies
And sea, when once again my brow was bared
After thy healing, with such different eyes.
O, world, as God has made it! all is beauty:
And knowing this, is love, and love is duty.
What further may be sought for or declared?

6.

Guercino drew this angel I saw teach

(Alfred, dear friend) · that little child to pray, Hoiding the little hands up, each to each

Pressed gently. with his own head turned away

Over the earth where so much lay before him

Of work to do, though heaven was opening o'er him, And he was left at Fano by the beach.

7

We were at Fano, and three times we went
To sit and see him in his chapel there,
And drink his beauty to our soul's content

- My angel with me too: and since I care
For dear Guercino's fame, (to which in power
And glory comes this picture for a dower,
Fraught with a pathos so magnificent)

8.

And since he did not work so earnestly

At all times, and has else endured some wrong, I took one thought his picture struck from me,

And spread it out, translating it to song.

My Love is here. Where are you, dear old friend?
How rolls the Wairoa at your world's far end?
This is Ancona, yonder is the sea.

CLEON.

"As certain also of your own poets have said"

CLEON the poet, (from the sprinkled isles,

Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea,

And laugh their pride when the light wave lispe "Greece") —

To Protos in his Tyranny: much health!

They give thy letter to me, even now:
I read and seem as if I heard thee speak.
The master of thy galley still unlades
Gift after gift; they block my court at last
And pile themselves along its portico
Royal with sunset, like a thought of thee:
And one white she-slave from the group dispersed
Of black and white slaves, (like the chequer-work
Pavement, at once my nation's work and gift,
Now covered with this settle-down of doves)
One lyric woman, in her crocus vest

Woven of sea-wools, with her two white hands
Commends to me the strainer and the cup
Thy lip hath bettered ere it blesses mine.