Theodore Tilton
First Lines
A paduan Minorite lay deathly sick,
As other men have creeds, so I have:
Good bishop, prithee, listen to my tale!
I once made search, in hope to find
I watched her at her spinning,
I weave a tale of old and new;
Knight, sir, from the Holy Land
My friend (mark, only friend, and nothing more),
O maiden, I who, many miles away,
O Thou by whom the lost are found,
O true and noble friend! -- (too far away:
Once in Persia reigned a King,
One Sabbath morn I roamed astray,
Our night has vanished like a dream;
Red Cypress! Thee I pluck to-day.
The story, as I heard it told,
The works of God are fair for nought
These roses, planted on her grave, have blown:
This golden legend first was told
This spot is where we parted; and I think
Thou who ordainest, for the land's salvation,
Thy head was crowned with thorns:
Two kittens grew hungry with licking their feet,
We gathered roses, Blanche and I, for little Madge one morning:
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