Page:Pascoli - Paulo Ucello.djvu/20



OW that again Paulo, in chastened mood, With Poverty’s stern peace was well content, Saint Francis turned togo and raised his hood,

Called by a far-off bell. But, as he went, He looked, and still in Paulo’s eyes could see That quivering beat of wings, as yet unspent.

He wept for pity, knowing no harm could be In that vain, humble wish, the last that still Clung to his brother’s frail mortality.

The faint and far-off chime stole down the hill From a low convent on the wooded steep, The work of Paulo’s hand. Wafted at will,

From the blue hills, over the valleys deep, The peal came fitfully upon the air, And lulled the drowsy landscape into sleep.

‘Ave Maria,’ murmured the Saint in prayer. Then, on the unbent grass of the incline, He passed, with these last words of tender care:

‘Like to a bird thou art, sweet brother mine, Blinded by cruel men. With sightless gaze Thou seek’st a grain, and the full ear is thine,

Thou seek’st the sun, and all the sky’s ablaze.’ 16