"Dear," came the answer, quick as thought,
"Dear ... and yet always to be bought."
So Jamíl ceased. But still Life's page
Shows diverse unto Youth and Age:
And,—be the song of Ghouls or Gods,—
Time, like the Sultán, sits ... and nods.
TO A MISSAL OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.
Missal of the Gothic age,
Missal with the blazoned page,
Whence, O Missal, hither come,
From what dim scriptorium?
Whose the name that wrought thee thus,
Ambrose or Theophilus,
Bending, through the waning light,
O'er thy vellum scraped and white;
Weaving 'twixt thy rubric lines
Sprays and leaves and quaint designs;
Setting round thy border scrolled
Buds of purple and of gold?
Ah!—a wondering brotherhood,
Doubtless, by that artist stood,
Raising o'er his careful ways
Little choruses of praise;
Glad when his deft hand would paint
Strife of Sathanas and Saint,
Or in secret coign entwist
Jest of cloister humourist.
Well the worker earned his wage,
Bending o'er the blazoned page!
Tired the hand and tired the wit
Ere the final Explicit!