VII. Quick-is it finished? The colour 's too grim! VIII. What a drop! She's not little, no minion like me— That's why she ensnared him: this never will free The soul from those strong, great eyes,—say, “no!" To that pulse's magnificent come-and-go. IX. For only last night, as they whispered, I brought Could I keep them one half minute fixed, she would fall, X. Not that I bid you spare her the pain! He is sure to remember her dying face! XI. Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose, XII. Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill, THE CONFESSIONAL. [SPAIN.] I. It is a lie their Priests, their Pope, II. You think Priests just and holy men! With flesh and blood like one of you, III. I had a lover-shame avaunt! This poor wrenched body, grim and gaunt, Was kissed all over till it burned, By lips the truest, love e'er turned His heart's own tint: one night they kissed My soul out in a burning mist. IV. So, next day when the accustomed train V. But when I faulter Beltran's name, "Ha?"quoth the father; "much I blame "The sin; yet wherefore idly grieve? 66 66 Despair not, strenuously retrieve! Nay, I will turn this love of thine "To lawful love, almost divine. VI. "For he is young, and led astray, "This Beltran, and he schemes, men say, "To change the laws of church and state; "So, thine shall be an angel's fate, "Who, ere the thunder breaks, should roll "Its cloud away and save his soul. 66 VII. 'For, when he lies upon thy breast, "Thou mayst demand and be possessed "Of all his plans, and next day steal “To me, and all those plans reveal, “That I and every priest, to purge "His soul, may fast and use the scourge." VIII. That father's beard was long and white, IX. He told me what he would not tell X I told the father all his schemes, Who were his comrades, what their dreams; "And now make haste," I said, " to pray "The one spot from his soul away: 66 To-night he comes, but not the same "Will look!" At night he never came. XI. Nor next night on the after-morn, I went forth with a strength new-born : The church was empty; something drew XII That horrible black scaffold drest- XIII. No part in aught they hope or fear! and here, No Heaven with them, no Hell, But shall bear God and Man my cry— THE FLIGHT OF THE DUCHESS. YOU'RE my friend: I. I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his yoke; too; So, here's the tale from beginning to end, My friend! |