At my feet the city slumbered. From its chimneys, here and there, Not a sound rose from the city at that early morning hour, From their nests beneath the rafters sang the swallows wild and high; And the great bell tolled among them, like the chanting of a friar. All the Foresters of Flanders, mighty Baldwin Bras de Fer, I beheld the pageants splendid, that adorned those days of old; Lombard and Venetian merchants with deep-laden argosies; I beheld proud Maximilian, kneeling humbly on the ground; more. Hours had passed away like minutes; and, before I was aware, MISCELLANEOUS. 66 A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. And summon from the shadowy Past The Past and Present here unite Here runs the highway to the town; Through which I walked to church with thee, The shadow of the linden-trees A shadow, thou didst pass. Thy dress was like the lilies, And thy heart as pure as they: One of God's holy messengers I saw the branches of the trees Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares, Of earth and folly born!" Solemnly sang the village choir On that sweet Sabbath morn. Through the closed blinds the golden sun Poured in a dusty beam, Like the celestial ladder seen By Jacob in his dream. |