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.