Page:The poems of George Eliot (Crowell, 1884).djvu/344

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POEMS OF GEORGE ELIOT.

All ways I know of to be cleansed and pure.
I would not sink where evil spirits are.
There's perfect goodness somewhere: so I strive.


Countess Linda.

You were the better for that pilgrimage
You made before? The shrine is beautiful;
And then you saw fresh country all the way.


Agatha.

Yes, that is true. And ever since that time
The world seems greater, and the Holy Church
More wonderful. The blessed pictures all,
The heavenly images with books and wings,
Are company to me through the day and night.
The time! the time! It never seemed far back,
Only to father's father and his kin
That lived before him. But the time stretched out
After that pilgrimage: I seemed to see
Far back, and yet I knew time lay behind,
As there are countries lying still behind
The highest mountains, there in Switzerland.
Oh, it is great to go on pilgrimage!


Countess Linda.

Perhaps some neighbors will be pilgrims too,
And you can start together in a band.


Agatha.

Not from these hills: people are busy here.
The beasts want tendance. One who is not missed
Can go and pray for others who must work.
I owe it to all neighbors, young and old;
For they are good past thinking—lads and girls
Given to mischief, merry naughtiness,
Quiet it, as the hedgehogs smooth their spines,