The pearly line on yonder hills afar Within the dawn, when mounts the lark and sings By the great angel of the morning star,-- That was his love, and all free fair fresh things That move and glitter while the daylight springs: To thus know love, and yet to spoil love thus! To lose the dream--O silly beating wings-- Great dream so splendid and miraculous: O Lord, O Lord, have mercy, have mercy upon us. She turned her mind upon the holy ones Whose love lost here was love in heaven tenfold, She thought of Lucy, that most blessed of nuns Who sent her blue eyes on a plate of gold To him who wooed her daily for her love-- 'Mine eyes!' 'Mine eyes!' 'Here,--go in peace, they are!' But ever love came through the midnight grove, Young Love, with wild eyes watching from afar, And called and called and called until the morning star. Ah, poor Francesca, 'tis not such as thou That up the stony steeps of heaven climb; Take thou thy heaven with thy Paolo now-- Sweet saint of sin, saint of a deathless rhyme, Song shall defend thee at the bar of Time, Dante shall set thy fair young glowing face On the dark background of his theme sublime, And Thou and He in your superb disgrace Still on that golden wind of passion shall embrace. * * * * * So love this twain, but whither have they passed? Ah me, that dark must always follow day, That Love's last kiss is surely kissed at last, Howe'er so wildly the poor lips may pray: Merciful God, is there no other way? And pen, O must thou of the ending write, The hour Lanciotto found them where they lay, Folded together, weary with delight, Within the sumptuous petals of the rose of night. Yea, for Lanciotto found them: many an hour Ere their dear joy had run its doomèd date, Had they, in silken nook and blossomed bower, All unsuspect the blessed apple ate, Who now must grind its core predestinate. Kiss, kiss, poor losing lovers, nor deny One little tremor of its bliss, for Fate Cometh upon you, and the dark is nigh Where all, unkissed, unkissing, learn at length to lie. Bent on some journey of the state's concern They deemed him, and indeed he rode thereon But questioned Paolo--'What if he return!' 'Nay, love, indeed he is securely gone As thou art surely here, beloved one, He went ere sundown, and our moon is here-- A fear, love, in this heart that yet knew none!' How could he fright that little velvet ear With last night's dream and all its ghostly fear!