The thing was done
So long assayed from sun to sun . . .
- Now in his joy he grew aware
Of one behind him standing there,
And, turning, saw the abbot, who
The weather's whim was watching too.
Onward to Prime the abbot went,
Tacit upon the incident.
- Men now discerned as days revolved
The ogive riddle had been solved;
Templates were cut, fresh lines were chalked
Where lines had been defaced and balked,
And the work swelled and mounted higher,
Achievement distancing desire;
Here jambs with transoms fixed between,
Where never the like before had been -
There little mullions thinly sawn
Where meeting circles once were drawn.
"We knew," men said, "the thing would go
After his craft-wit got aglow,
"And, once fulfilled what he has designed,
We'll honour him and his great mind!"
When matters stood thus poised awhile,
And all surroundings shed a smile,
The master-mason on an eve
Homed to his wife and seemed to grieve . . .
- "The abbot spoke to me to-day:
He hangs about the works alway.
"He knows the source as well as I
Of the new style men magnify.
"He said: 'You pride yourself too much
On your creation. Is it such?
"'Surely the hand of God it is
That conjured so, and only His! -
"'Disclosing by the frost and rain
Forms your invention chased in vain;
"'Hence the devices deemed so great
You copied, and did not create.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101