Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/121

Upon his wondering thoughts: through prayer, through chant,
The question ever rang, "What could God want
To teach me, showing me that sinful man
As saint of nearest kin to me, who can
Abide no sin of thought or deed."

Abide no sin of thought or deed."Three days
The Abbot went his patient, silent ways.
The river lapped in gentle, silent flow
The cloister-wall; the ash-trees to and fro
Swayed silent, save a sigh: the third night, came—
Low rapping at the cloister-door, in shame
And fear—the player!

And fear—the player!Then Paphnutius rose,
His pale face kindled red with joyful glows;
The monks in angry, speechless wonder stood,
Seeing this vagabond to brotherhood
Made so soon welcome. But the Abbot said,
"O brothers! this flute-player in such stead
Is held of God, that, when in loneliness
I knelt and prayed for some new saint to bless
Our house, God spoke, and told me this man's name,
As his who should be brother when he came."

 Flute-player and Paphnutius both have slept
In dust for centuries. The world has kept
No record of them save this tale, which sets
But bootless lesson: still the world forgets
That God knows best what hearts are counted his
Still men deny the thing whose sign they miss;