4. That day, the earth's feast-master's brow Shall clear, to God the chalice raising; "Others give best at first, but Thou Forever set'st our table praising, Keep'st the good wine till now." 5. Meantime, I'll draw you as you stand, With few or none to watch and wonder. a fisher (on the sand I'll say By Tyre the Old) his ocean-plunder, A netful, brought to land. 6. Who has not heard how Tyrian shells 7. And each bystander of them all Could criticize, and quote tradition; How depths of blue sublimed some pall, To get which, pricked a king's ambition; Worth sceptre, crown and ball. 8. Yet there's the dye, — in that rough mesh, 9. Enough to furnish Solomon Such hangings for his cedar-house, That when gold-robed he took the throne In that abyss of blue, the Spouse Might swear his presence shone 10. Most like the centre-spike of gold Which burns deep in the blue-bell's womb, What time, with ardours manifold, The bee goes singing to her groom, Drunken and overbold. 11. Mere conchs! not fit for warp or woof! Till art comes, comes to pound and squeeze And clarify, refines to proof The liquor filtered by degrees, While the world stands aloof. 12. And there's the extract, flasked and fine, And priced, and salable at last! And Hobbs, Nobbs, Stokes and Nokes combine To paint the future from the past, Put blue into their line. Hobbs hints blue, 13. straight he turtle eats. Nobbs prints blue, claret crowns his cup. Nokes outdares Stokes in azure feats, Both gorge. Who fished the inurex up? What porridge had John Keats? THE HERETIC'S TRAGEDY. A MIDDLE-AGE INTERLUDE. CONCEIT SAINT OF {In the original) ROSA MUNDI; SEU, FULCITE ME FLORIBUS. A MASTER GYSBRECHT, CANON REGULAR OP JODOCUS-BY-THE-BAR, YPRES CITY. CANTUQUE, Virgilius. AND HATH OFTEN BEEN SUNG AT HOCK-TIDE AND FESTIVALS. GAVISUS ERAM, Jessides. (It would seem to be a glimpse from the burning of Jacques du Bourg-Molay, at Paris, A. D. 1314; as distorted by the refraction from Flemish brain to brain, during the course of a couple of centuries.-R.B.) 1. PREADMONISHETH THE ABBOT DEODAET. THE Lord, we look to once for all, Is the Lord we should look at, all at once: He knows not to vary, saith St. Paul, Nor the shadow of turning, for the nonce. See Him no other than as he is; Give both the Infinites their due Infinite mercy, but, I wis, As infinite a justice too. [Organ: plagal-cadence As infinite a justice too. 2. ONE SINGETH. John, Master of the Temple of God, [And wanteth there grace of lute or clavicithers, y shall say to confirm him who singeth— We bring John now to be burned alive. 3. In the midst is a goodly gallows built; "Twixt fork and fork, a stake is stuck; But first they set divers tumbrils a-tilt, Make a trench all round with the city muck; Inside they pile log upon log, good store; Fagots not few, blocks great and small, Reach a man's mid-thigh, no less, no more, For they mean he should roast in the sight of all. |