Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . The old walls rocked with the crowds and I said, Good folks, mere noise repels— But give me your sun from yonder skies ! They had answered, And afterward, what else ? I III Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun,To give it my loving friends to keep. Nought man could do, have I left undoneAnd you see my harvest, what I reap This very day, now a year is run. 252 THE PATRIOT IV Theres nobody on the house-tops now—Just a palsied few at the windows set— For the best of the sight is, all allow,At the Shambles Gate—or, better yet,


Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . The old walls rocked with the crowds and I said, Good folks, mere noise repels— But give me your sun from yonder skies ! They had answered, And afterward, what else ? I III Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun,To give it my loving friends to keep. Nought man could do, have I left undoneAnd you see my harvest, what I reap This very day, now a year is run. 252 THE PATRIOT IV Theres nobody on the house-tops now—Just a palsied few at the windows set— For the best of the sight is, all allow,At the Shambles Gate—or, better yet, By the very scaffolds foot, I trow. VI go in the rain, and, more than needs, A rope cuts both my wrists I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, For they fling, whoever has a mind,Stones at me for my years misdeeds. VIThus I entered Brescia, and thus I go. In such triumphs, people have dropped down dead. Thou, paid by the World,—what dost thou owe Me ? God might have questioned : but now insteadTis God shall requite ! I am safer A»t<! 253 MASTER HUGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA MASTER HUGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA Hist, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged. Master Hugues !Answer the question I ve put you so oft— What do you mean by your mountainous fugues ?See, we re alone in the loft, II I, the poor organist here, Hugues, the composer of note—Dead, though, and done with, this many a year— Lets have a colloquy, something to quote,Make the world prick up its ear ! Ill See, the church empties a-pace. Fast they extinguish the lights—Hallo, there, sacristan ! five minutes grace! Heres a crank pedal wants setting to rights,Baulks one of holding the base. IV See, our huge house of the sounds Hushing its hundreds at the last loiterer back to his bounds —Oh, you may challenge them, not a responseGet the church saints on their rounds! (Saints go their rounds, who shall doubt ? —March, with the moon to nave, down chancel, turn transept


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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904