And once it seemed that something new or strange Had passed upon the flowers the trees the ground, Some slight but unintelligible change On every thing around:
Such change, where all things undisturbed remain, As only to the eye of him appears, Who absent long, at length returns again-- The silent work of years.
And ever grew upon him more and more Fresh marvel--for, unrecognised of all, He stood a stranger at the convent door-- New faces filled the hall.
Yet was it long ere he received the whole Of that strange wonder--how, while he had stood Lost in deep gladness of his inmost soul, Far hidden in that wood,
A generation had gone down unseen Under the thin partition which is spread-- The thin partition of thin earth--between The living and the dead.
Nor did he many days to earth belong, For like a pent-up stream, released again, The years arrested by the strength of song, Came down on him amain;
Sudden as a dissolving thaw in spring; Gentle as when upon the first warm day, Which sunny April in its train may bring, The snow melts all away.
They placed him in his former cell, and there Watched him departing; what few words he said Were of calm peace and gladness, with one care Mingled--one only dread--
Lest an eternity should not suffice To take the measure and the breadth and height Of what there is reserved in Paradise-- Its ever-new delight.
LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
Qual es la niña Que coge las flores Si no tiene amores? SPANISH BALLAD.
[3] Eusebius thus speaks of the Antichristian power:--Τον θεο μαχου ... τας πρας τον Υψιστου τοις αγγελοις παραδοθεισας των εθνων ‘οροθεσιας και συγχειν απειλουντος.
[4] Some of the old Litanies specially included these last:--’Pro navigantibus, iter agentibus, in carceribus, in vinculis, _in metallis_, in exiliis constitutis, precamur Te.
[5] See Augustine’s Confessions, B. 9, C. 10.
[7] “He [Archbishop Leighton] used often to say, that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn; it looks like a pilgrim’s going home, to whom this world was all as an inn, and who was weary of the noise and confusion in it. He added that the officious care and tenderness of friends was an entanglement to a dying man, and that the unconcerned attendance of those that could be procured in such a place would give less disturbance, and he obtained what he desired.”--_Burnet’s History of his own Time._