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TRANSLATION AND IMITATIONS.
Thus he spoke and ceased. The Abbot
Lent him an impatient hearing,
Then outbroke with angry accent,
"We have borne three years, thou sayest?
"'Tis enough; my vow is sacred.
These shall perish with their brethren.
Hark ye! In my veins' pure current
Were a single drop found Jewish,
"I would shrink not from outpouring
All my life blood, but to purge it.
Shall I gentler prove to others?
Mercy would be sacrilegious,
"Ne'er again at thy soul's peril,
Speak to me of Jewish beauty,
Jewish skill, or Jewish virtue.
I have said. Do thou remember."
Down behind the purple hillside
Dropped the sun; above the garden
Bang the Angelus' clear cadence
Summoning the monks to vespers.
