There’s nobody on the house-tops now—­
  Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,
  At the Shambles’ Gate—­or, better yet,
By the very scaffold’s foot, I trow. 20

I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
  A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
  For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year’s misdeeds.

Thus I entered, and thus I go! 
  In triumphs, people have dropped down dead,
“Paid by the world, what dost thou owe
  Me? “—­God might question; now instead,
’Tis God shall repay:  I am safer so. 30

* * * * *

THE BOY AND THE ANGEL

Morning, evening, noon, and night,
“Praise God!” sang Theocrite.

Then to his poor trade he turned,
Whereby the daily meal was earned.

Hard he laboured, long and well;
O’er his work the boy’s curls fell.

But ever, at each period,
He stopped and sang, “Praise God!”

Then back again his curls he threw,
And cheerful turned to work anew. 10

Said Blaise, the listening monk, “Well done;
I doubt not thou art heard, my son: 

“As well as if thy voice to-day
Were praising God, the Pope’s great way.

“This Easter Day, the Pope at Rome
Praises God from Peter’s dome.”

Said Theocrite, “Would God that I
Might praise Him that great way, and die!”

Night passed, day shone,
And Theocrite was gone. 20

With God a day endures alway,
A thousand years are but a day.

God said in heaven, “Nor day nor night
Now brings the voice of my delight.” deg. deg.24

Then Gabriel, like a rainbow’s birth,
Spread his wings and sank to earth;

Entered, in flesh, the empty cell,
Lived there, and played the craftsman well;

And morning, evening, noon, and night,
Praised God in place of Theocrite. 30

And from a boy, to youth he grew: 
The man put off the stripling’s hue: 

The man matured and fell away
Into the season of decay: 

And ever o’er the trade he bent,
And ever lived on earth content.

(He did God’s will; to him, all one
If on the earth or in the sun.)

God said, “A praise is in mine ear;
There is no doubt in it, no fear:  40

“So sing old worlds, and so
New worlds that from my footstool go.

“Clearer loves sound other ways: 
I miss my little human praise.”