Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/127

Rh Witless but innocent, and leave me not Without a blessing.&quot; Moved unutterably, The pilgrim kissed with trembling lips his head, And muttered, &quot; At this moment would to God That I were worthy! &quot; Then waved wasted hands Over the youth in act of blessing him, But faltered, &quot; Cleanse me through his innocence, O heavenly Father! &quot; and with quickening steps Hastened away upon the road to Rome. The noon was past, the reapers drew broad swaths With scythes sun-smitten midst the ripened crop. Thin shadows of the afternoon slept soft On the green meadows as the knight passed forth. He trudged amidst the sea of poisonous flowers On the Campagna s undulating plain, With Rome, the many-steepled, many-towered, Before him, regnant on her throne of hills. A thick blue cloud of haze o erhung the town, But the fast-sinking sun struck fiery light From shining crosses, roofs, and flashing domes. Across his path an arching bridge of stone Was raised above a shrunken yellow stream, Hurrying with the light on every wave Towards the great town and outward to the sea. Upon the bridge s crest he paused, and leaned Against the barrier, throwing back his cowl,