CUERVO - Biblioteca Nacional de Colombia

THE PATRIOT
5
I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind,
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.
417
6
Thus I entered Brescia, and thus I go I
In such triumphs, people have dropped down dead.
"Thou, paid by the World,-what dost thou owe
Me ?" God might have questioned: but now instead
'Tis God shall requite I I am safer so.
LXVI
MASTER HUGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA
1
RrsT, but a word, fair and soft I
Forth and be judged, Master Hugues !
Answer the question I've put you so oft-
What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?
See, we're alone in the loft,
2
I, the poor organist here,
Hugues, the composer of note-
Dead, though, and done with, this many a year-
1\.< Let's have a colloquy, something to quote,
.nake the world prick up its ear I
3
See, the church empties a-pace.
Fast they extinguish the lights-
Rallo, there, sacristan! five minutes' grace I
B Rere's a crank pedal wants setting to rights,
aulks one of holding the base.
4
See, Our huge house of the sounds
.Hushing its hundreds at once,
BIds the last loiterer back to his bounds
G -Oh, you may challenge them, not a response
et the church saints on their rounds I
15--0
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