Little plays of StFrancis; a dramatic cycle from the life and legend of StFrancis of Assisi . word, her dying like a dove winged faint back to this ark,That on dark waters floats and sees no shore,—78 THE BRIDE FEAST Her word, which was her prayer, this thou must grant: Live, Lucio,—Hve ! [Leaving lucid alone by the dead body, heretires apart; takes up a lute, and in a lowvoice sings— This love I gave to thee. That bettered it might me it went not when to thee twas given : Bestowed, it grows not less ; That thou and I possessThis double-single, is the gift of Heaven ! Also h
Little plays of StFrancis; a dramatic cycle from the life and legend of StFrancis of Assisi . word, her dying like a dove winged faint back to this ark,That on dark waters floats and sees no shore,—78 THE BRIDE FEAST Her word, which was her prayer, this thou must grant: Live, Lucio,—Hve ! [Leaving lucid alone by the dead body, heretires apart; takes up a lute, and in a lowvoice sings— This love I gave to thee. That bettered it might me it went not when to thee twas given : Bestowed, it grows not less ; That thou and I possessThis double-single, is the gift of Heaven ! Also her secret. Here No parting doth appear :This thing is one, whether thine eyes or mine Be windows thereunto. Here wisdom, searching Love at home : into Gods courts they shine. So, in the broken bread. Love, by Himself goes finds release in each life-healing deed. And, through all hands which serve. We take, taste, and preserveThat life of endless love which fits our need. {Re lays down the lute, puts out the lights one byone, and goes out. 79 OUR LADY OF POVERTY. Scene: A Court of against a hack-ground of pinewood, in aformal garden adorned withfountains, sits the Queen ofBeauty surrounded by hermaidens. Soft music is play-ing, while the Prolocutor,thin and elderly, in legalattire, sets people to theirplaces. A flourish of trumpets isheard, and three of the combatants, Rinaldo, UbertOj andGiovanni, enter led on by a youth in heralds dress. Cloaked andhooded, each carrying an instrument of music, they halt and salute. RiNALDO. Prolocutor, have the lists opened ? POMPiLio. Nay, tarry, good Signor ! Not yet,not yet! [He marshals them with his wand of office.]Be thus far, but no further. Then, when I signify,ye shall advance, each to his part in turn : and Ito mine. UBERTO. Pompey is very full of himself, Rinaldo. GIOVANNI. And yet sounds empty. isoLA. There comes Francesco. MARGHERiTA. Who with him ? isoLA. Lucio Leone. JULIA. I feared he
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectfrancisofassisisaint
