THE HOLY MAN
They feared the friar in the hall, A holy man and grim;But when the little Princess came She only smiled at him.
The friar preached the life austere; The Princess did not care—She saw the kisses in his eyes A woman had left' there.
And when he died of fast and prayer, And men from north and southMade pilgrimage towards his bier, She set upon his mouth
A damask rose her garden grew . . . They blamed such worldly wile,Then trembled at the miracle Who saw a dead man smile!
