From the convent on the sea, Now it sweepeth solemnly, As over wood and over lea Bodily the wind did carry The great altar of St Mary, And the fifty tapers paling o'er it, And the Lady Abbess stark before it, And the weary nuns with hearts that faintly Beat along their voices saintly-- _ Ingemisco y ingemisco!_ Dirge for abbess laid in shroud Sweepeth o er the shroudless dead, Page or lady, as we said, With the dews upon her head, All as sad if not as loud, _Ingemiso, ingemisco_ Is ever a lament begun By any mourner under sun, Which, ere it endeth, suits but _one_?? ----E. B. Browning. [Illustration: 0231] THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST |Little Ellie sits alone 'Mid the beeches of a meadow By a stream-side on the grass, And the trees are showering down Doubles of their leaves in shadow On her shining hair and face. She has thrown her bonnet by, And her feet she has been dipping In the shallow waters flow: Now she holds them nakedly In her hands, all sleek and dripping, While she rocketh to and fro. Little Ellie sits alone, And the smile she softly uses Fills the silence like a speech While she thinks what shall be done, And the sweetest pleasure chooses For her future within reach. Little Ellie in her smile Chooses--"I will have a lover, Riding on a steed of steeds: He shall love me without guile, And to _him_ I will discover The swan's nest among the reeds. "And the steed shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble, With an eye that takes the breath: And the lute he plays upon Shall strike ladies into trouble, As his sword strikes men to death. "And the steed it shall be shod All in silver, housed in azure, And the mane shall swim the wind; And the hoofs along the sod Shall flash onward and keep measure, Till the shepherds look behind. "But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in, When he gazes in my face: He will say, 'O Love, thine eyes Build the shrine my soul abides in, And I kneel here for thy grace!' "Then, ay, then he shall kneel low, With the red-roan steed anear him Which shall seem to understand, Till I answer, 4 Rise and go! For the world must love and fear him Whom I gift with heart and hand.' "Then he will arise so pale, I shall feel my own lips tremble With a yes I must not say, Nathless maiden-brave, 'Farewell,' I will utter, and dissemble-- 'Light to-morrow with to-day!' "Then he'll ride among the hills To the wide world past the river, There to put away all wrong; To make straight distorted wills, And to empty the broad quiver Which the wicked bear along. "Three times shall a young foot-page