He asks, and bread of wheat they bring;
He thirsts for water from the spring
Which flowed of old, and still flows on,
With name and memory of St. John.
Bread and water are given him; and, through the stained windows, glorious rainbow tints fall over what is set before him. A page looking on him pities the old man, because—
He eats, but sees not on that bread
What glorious radiance there is shed;
He drinks from out that chalice fair,
Nor marks the sunlight glancing there.
Watch! gentle Ronald, watch and pray!