Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/484

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A MATER DOLOROSA
Then down the street came Giacomo, flushed
With wine and laughter. I can see him now,
With Giulio, Florian, and young Angelo,
Arms interlaced, hands clasped, a roisterous crew
Of merry, harmless idlers. Ah, so long,
So long ago it was! Yet I can see
Just how the campanile shone that night
Like molten silver, while its carven saints
Prayed in the moonlight. Then a shadow crept
Over the moon's face; and it grew so dark
That the red star in Giacomo's cap
Paled and went out, and Giulio's shoulder-clasp
Lost all the lustre of its burnished gold,
And faded out of sight. Strange, how we lose
So much we would remember, and yet keep
Trifles like this until the day of doom!
They had swept past me where I stood in shade
When Giacomo turned. Just then the moon
Shone out again, illumining the place,
And he paused laughing, catching sight of me
There by the fountain.—Nay, sweet Signor, nay!
I was young then, and some said I was fair;
But I loved not Giacomo, nor he me.—
Back he came crying, "Little one, take heed!
Know you Fra Alessandro? He would have
A model for his picture. Go you then
To-morrow to his studio and say