"Ever we touch the prize we dare not take!
Ever we know that thirst we dare not slake!
Yet ever to a dreamed-of goal we make--
Est tui coeli in palatio!
"Long, long the road, and set with many a snare;
And to how small sure knowledge are we heir
That blindly tread, with twilight everywhere!
Volo in toto; sed non valeo!
"Long, long the road, and very frail are we
That may not lightly curb mortality,
Nor lightly tread together steadfastly,
Et parvum carmen unum facio:
"Mater, ora filium,
Ut post hoc exilium
Nobis donet gaudium
Beatorum omnium!"
Dame Anne had risen. She said nothing. She stayed in this posture for
a lengthy while, one hand yet clasping each breast. Then she laughed,
and began to speak of Long Simon's recent fever. Was there no method
of establishing him in another cottage? No, the priest said, the
peasants, like the cattle, were always deeded with the land, and Simon
could not lawfully be taken away from his owner.
One day, about the hour of prime, in that season of the year when
fields smell of young grass, the Duke of Gloucester sent for Edward
Maudelain.
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