162
OLD LETTERS.
VI.
I turn from things behind;
They lose their savour! now that on the core
Of Life content I feed, I fling the rind,
That once looked fair, aside for evermore,
For I have pierced beneath it. Since my eyes
Have looked upon thy face, to all things wise,
And pure, and noble, they have clearer grown;
But careless are they to the vanities
That once could hold them chained. I stood alone
To watch the long procession that yestreen
Moved through our city stately to the flow
Of martial music; then I saw thee lean
From out a balcony, and all the show
Went by unmarked of me, as we had been
Alone beside the river winding slow;—
So doth this world's fair Pageant pass me by,
I see but thee! yet do not therefore grow
Unmindful of its goodly company:
I tracked those glittering ranks until they stayed
Within the square, and passing through the door
Of the great Minster, took within its shade
The sunshine after them; like One that prayed
In silence, seemed that multitude, before
So bright and jubilant, now only made
They lose their savour! now that on the core
Of Life content I feed, I fling the rind,
That once looked fair, aside for evermore,
For I have pierced beneath it. Since my eyes
Have looked upon thy face, to all things wise,
And pure, and noble, they have clearer grown;
But careless are they to the vanities
That once could hold them chained. I stood alone
To watch the long procession that yestreen
Moved through our city stately to the flow
Of martial music; then I saw thee lean
From out a balcony, and all the show
Went by unmarked of me, as we had been
Alone beside the river winding slow;—
So doth this world's fair Pageant pass me by,
I see but thee! yet do not therefore grow
Unmindful of its goodly company:
I tracked those glittering ranks until they stayed
Within the square, and passing through the door
Of the great Minster, took within its shade
The sunshine after them; like One that prayed
In silence, seemed that multitude, before
So bright and jubilant, now only made
