Of a monk’s eye glitter and glare.
Your pardon![535]—nay, keep your chair!
I wander a little, but mean
No offence to the gray gabardine:
Of the church,[536] Fra Giacomo,
I’m a faithful upholder,[537] you know.
But (humor me![538]) she was as sweet
As the saints in yon[539] convent windows,
So gentle, so meek, so discreet,
She knew not what lust does or sin does.