On the tomb two Forms they sculptur'd, Lifelike in the marble pale. One, the Duke in helm and armour; Round the tomb the carv'd stone fret-work Was at Easter tide put on. Then the Duchess clos'd her labours ; And she died at the St. John. THE CHURCH OF BROU. II. The Church. UPON the glistening leaden roof Of the new Pile, the sunlight shines. The stream goes leaping by. The hills are cloth'd with pines sun-proof. Mid bright green fields, below the pines, Stands the Church on high. What Church is this, from men aloof? 'Tis the Church of Brou. At sunrise, from their dewy lair Crossing the stream, the kine are seen The churchyard wall that clips the square Where last year they lay. But all things now are order'd fair On Sundays, at the matin chime, The Alpine peasants, two and three, Burghers and dames, at summer's prime, Ride out to church from Chambery, Dight with mantles gay. But else it is a lonely time Round the Church of Brou. On Sundays too a priest doth come And then you hear the organ's hum, You hear the white-rob'd priest say mass, And the people pray. But else the woods and fields are dumb Round the Church of Brou. And after church, when mass is done, The people to the nave repair Round the Tomb to stray. And marvel at the Forms of stone, And praise the chisell'd broideries rare. Then they drop away. The Princely Pair are left alone In the Church of Brou. 150 THE CHURCH OF BROU. III. The Tamb. So rest, for ever rest, O Princely Pair! In your high Church, 'mid the still mountain air, From the rich painted windows of the nave |