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Page 50
For he, when many tedious
days were lost
In questionings and seekings to and fro,
Went back once more to the old Barbara,
Emilio's foster-mother, who one day
Had been too deaf to listen, and the next
Forgot if she had seen him, yes or no,
After his fleeing, and the next declared
That Gervase meant him mischief, and would take
No pledge or promise from a heretic.
Gervase went back to her, with him her priest,
"Now will you take the father's word for me,
That I intend your foster-son no harm -
Good rather?" And the priest, blandly, "Do not fear,
I know his reason; tell him what you can."
And what she could was that Emilio,
Having a loud sweet voice, had gone to sing
To the rich English who, she heard, would pay
In gold for every note, and so she thought
He must be a Milordo with them now.
So Gervase went to London, seeking still;
And found a track, then lost, then found again:
And so, by fragments, traced what sorry way
The man he sought had gone.
Not much to learn;
Yet meaning such a countless tale of hopes
Coming and going always till at length
The very last had drifted out of sight,
Of efforts, and of languors and despairs,
Of rashnesses, and failures, and of want;
And bye and bye the recklessness that comes
From being too forlorn and out of heart:
Then sickness, and the hand of death stretched out
To take the useless life and hide it down
With those who neither work nor starve, but sleep,
And cumber no one.
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