They're not going travelling for many a day: They don't attempt branches, they seek it in clay: First they start holes, and then dig in hollows: Excavate caverns to lay future swallows: A gray, crumbling chapel, best for the landing: Too old for man -- not too old to be standing: A home no one visits, come west or come east, Unless he be harmless, some hermit or priest, Who walkes in a plot shaded green, an arena Between pater noster and ave maria. If he should lift eyes and see birds, the chance is: He'll be but a lover: another St Francis. |