Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/137

Rh He held such thoughts ; at times before his eyes Flashed glimpses of the Church that was to be, Sublimely simple in the light serene Of future ages ; then the vision changed To the Pope s hall, thronged with high priests, who hurled Their curses on him. Staggering, he awoke Unto the truth, and found himself alone, Beneath the awful stars. When dawn’s first chill Crept through the shivering grass and heavy leaves, Giddy and overcome, he fell and slept ^Upon the dripping weeds, nor dreamed nor stirred, Until the wide plain basked in noon s broad light. He dragged his weary frame some paces more, Unto a solitary herdsman s hut, Which, in the vagueness of the moonlit night, Was touched with lines of beauty, till it grew Fair as the ruined works of ancient art, Now squat and hideous with its wattled roof, Decaying timbers, and loose door wide oped, Half-fallen from the hinge. A drowsy man, Bearded and burnt, in shepherd habit lay, Stretched on the floor, slow - munching, half asleep, His frugal fare ; for thus, at blaze of noon, The shepherds sought a shelter from the sun, Leaving their vigilant dogs beside their flock.