Page:Once a Week Jun to Dec 1864.pdf/589

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This picture here doth surely dwarf that power
Which even now the earth acknowledges!”
With sudden thrill of thought I asked his name;
Whereto he answered with a look of pride,
“Men call me Rubens.”
Men call me Rubens.”  O the sudden chill
That turned my heart to stone! Cold drops of sweat
Stood beaded on my brow, I felt like one
Who, toiling through a desert, sees beyond
The haunts of men he fondly hoped to reach,
And yet must die within their very sound.
Should I forsake my convent and go forth
With glory as a meteoric star
To blind the eyes of men?—forget my vows,
Peril mayhap the safety of my soul?
“Thou shalt have wealth, whate’er thou mayst desire,
By dispensation of the Holy See;
Old Rome shall choose thee as her chiefest son,