IV. What though fogs may stream from draining waters? V. Old decays but foster new creations; Bones and ashes feed the golden corn; Fresh elixirs wander every moment, Down the veins through which the live past feeds its child, the live unborn. Library. Of California THE SAINT'S TRAGEDY. ACT I. SCENE I. A.D. 1220. The Doorway of a closed Chapel in the Wartburg. ELIZABETH sitting on the Steps. Eliz. Baby Jesus, who dost lie Happy birds! whom Jesus leaves All without is mean and small, Jesus, let me enter in, Wrap me safe from noise and sin; See the picture of Thy wrongs; Let me kiss Thy wounded feet, At Thy door-step low I bend, Who have neither kin nor friend; Let me here a shelter find, Shield the shorn lamb from the wind. Jesu, Lord, my heart will break, Save me for Thy great love's sake! Enter ISENTRudis. Isen. Aha! I had missed my little bird from the nest, And judged that she was here. What's this? fie, tears? Eliz. Go! you despise me like the rest. Isen. Despise you? What's here? King Andrew's child? St. John's sworn maid? Who dares despise you? Out upon these Saxons ! They sang another note when I was younger, When from the rich East came my queenly pearl, Lapt on this fluttering heart, while mighty heroes Rode by her side, and far behind us stretched Fit for my princess. Eliz. A thousand times. Isen. Did water at the booty! Oh, how their hungry mouths Since the three Kings came wandering into Cöln, They ne'er saw, nor their fathers;-well they knew it! Eliz. Your eyes alone have souls. I shall go mad! Oh! that they would but leave me all alone, |