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A poem by Austin Dobson |
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The Virgin With The Bells (Tale In Rhyme) |
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Title: The Virgin With The Bells (Tale In Rhyme) Author: Austin Dobson [More Titles by Dobson] Much strange is true. And yet so much In this our tale his part he plays. (Even where Art the most excels) Gracious she was, and featly done, And sceptre in her hand did bear; Writ with Faith, Hope, and Charity. Of great or small. But this they told:-- More moved no doubt of heat than prayer, But, for all this, a hard, haught man. Praying him grant of his excess Thereat with scorn he answered--"Nay, "To swell the Church's overflow. "Or, likelier still, your doll's-eyed queen "For fasting folk!" With that he laughed, Strode, and of these was seen no more. Oft dower shrunk souls. But, on a day, Chaffered around the basket ware, It chanced that when the priest would kneel From out the Virgin's altar came. Spoke in his pride, and therewithal Who, of the Duke, was banned the State, Such is the tale the Frati tell. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |