Killed at the Ford. And I saw in a vision how far and fleet Till it reached a heart that ceased to beat Without a murmur, And a bell was tolled in that far-off town, For one who had passed from cross to crown, 39 And the neighbours wondered that she should die. GIOTTO'S TOWER. OW many lives, made beautiful and sweet HOW By self-devotion and by self-restraint, Whose pleasure is to run without complaint On unknown errands of the Paraclete, Wanting the reverence of unshodden feet, Fail of the nimbus which the artists paint Around the shining forehead of the saint, And are in their completeness incom plete! Giotto's Tower. 41 In the old Tuscan town stands Giotto's tower, TO-MORROW. IS late at night, and in the realm of sleep TIS My little lambs are folded like the flocks; From room to room I hear th wakeful clocks Challenge the passing hour, like guards that keep Their solitary watch on tower and steep; Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks, And through the opening door that time unlocks Feel the fresh breathing of To-morrow creep. |