On her palfrey white the duchess
Sate, and watched her working train,—
Flemish carvers, Lombard gilders,
German masons, smiths from Spain.
Clad in black, on her white palfrey,
Her old architect beside,—
There they found her in the mountains,
Morn and noon and eventide.
There she sate, and watched the builders,
Till the church was roofed and done;
Last of all, the builders reared her
In the nave a tomb of stone.
On the tomb two forms they sculptured,
Lifelike in the marble pale,—
One, the duke in helm and armor;
One, the duchess in her veil.
Round the tomb the carved stone fret-work
Was at Easter-tide put on.
Then the duchess closed her labors;
And she died at the St. John.
II.
The Church.
Upon the glistening leaden roof
Of the new pile, the sunlight shines;
The stream goes leaping by.
The hills are clothed with pines sun-proof;
