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the church of the gesù.
Or some confession's soothed despair
Melt from its contrite woe to prayer!
Or standing near some porphyry shrine,
I catch a pale retreating line,
A fading glory, parting gleam,
From some seraphic-pictured dream,
Wherein the painter's art hath given
To earth the hues and glow of heaven.
Melt from its contrite woe to prayer!
Or standing near some porphyry shrine,
I catch a pale retreating line,
A fading glory, parting gleam,
From some seraphic-pictured dream,
Wherein the painter's art hath given
To earth the hues and glow of heaven.
'Twas thus this morn (as from the gay
And lightsome throng I turned away),
'Mid golden splendour, azure gloom,
I sought Ignazio's knightly tomb,
Where sleeps the loyal heart who gave
Its chivalry to Faith—whose grave,
More potent than the Cæsar's throne,
Sways with its rule the triple crown!
And lightsome throng I turned away),
'Mid golden splendour, azure gloom,
I sought Ignazio's knightly tomb,
Where sleeps the loyal heart who gave
Its chivalry to Faith—whose grave,
More potent than the Cæsar's throne,
Sways with its rule the triple crown!
I crossed the threshold's draperied fold
And paused—for, 'stead of silence lone,
I saw a gorgeous scene unrolled,
I heard the solemn organ's tone.
And paused—for, 'stead of silence lone,
I saw a gorgeous scene unrolled,
I heard the solemn organ's tone.
The shrine, with myriad torches bright,
Blaze with a consecrated light—
Blaze with a consecrated light—
