22
GOD'S SINGER.
None since had ever been so sweet,
Nor any since so true,
For like a child, unto the hill
Whence springs the rainbow, driven.
His mind on many a glittering quest
Since then had toiled and striven,
Yet never had he touched again
The point where Earth meets Heaven.
Nor any since so true,
For like a child, unto the hill
Whence springs the rainbow, driven.
His mind on many a glittering quest
Since then had toiled and striven,
Yet never had he touched again
The point where Earth meets Heaven.
The grey-haired Seneschal, that leant
Upon his staff apart,
Felt somewhat trembling on his lip,
And tightening round his heart,—
A ruined shrine, that had not seen
Its angels all depart;
For now he felt his mother s kiss
Upon his cheek, and heard—
Oh! sound approved from lips beloved—
Her fond and praiseful word.
And as each aged fibre shook.
And trembled to the strain.
He heard the cawing of the rook,—
He was a boy again!
With glad feet plashing in the brook
That wimpled onwards, fain
Its shining boundary to trace,
And clip his little world within
Too small a space to leave a place
For sorrow and for sin.
Upon his staff apart,
Felt somewhat trembling on his lip,
And tightening round his heart,—
A ruined shrine, that had not seen
Its angels all depart;
For now he felt his mother s kiss
Upon his cheek, and heard—
Oh! sound approved from lips beloved—
Her fond and praiseful word.
And as each aged fibre shook.
And trembled to the strain.
He heard the cawing of the rook,—
He was a boy again!
With glad feet plashing in the brook
That wimpled onwards, fain
Its shining boundary to trace,
And clip his little world within
Too small a space to leave a place
For sorrow and for sin.
