HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
dp 7 Dante
OFT have I seen at some cathedral door A labourer, pausing m the dust and heat. Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor
Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; Far off the noises of the world retreat; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishablc roar.
So, as I enter here from day to day,
And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,
The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away, While the eternal ages watch and wait.
��JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 69 8 The Henchman
MY lady walks her morning round, My lady's page her fleet greyhound, My lady's hair the fond winds stir, And all the birds make songs for her.
Her thrushes sing in Rathburn bowers, And Rathburn side is gay with flowers, But ne'er like hers, in flower or bird, Was beauty seen or music heard.
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