"Though flesh full soon beneath the sod
Doth perish and decay,
Though cherished body is but clod,
Yet in his soul man is a God,
To do and live alway.
So hence with gloom and banish fear,
Come Mirth and Jollity,
Since, though we pine in dungeon drear,
Though these, our bodies, languish here,
We in our minds go free."
Thus cheerily sang Jocelyn until, chancing to see how the youth leaned
forward great-eyed, watching as he sung, he broke off to question him
blithely:
"How now, good youth, hast a leaning to Folly e'en though Folly go
fettered, and thyself in dungeon?"
"Fool," answered the youth, soft-voiced, "me-thinks 't is strange Folly can
sing thus in chains! Hast thou no fear of death?"
"Why truly I love it no more than my fellow-fools. But I, being fool
uncommon, am wise enough to know that Death, howsoe'er he come, may come
but once--and there's a comfortable thought!"
So saying, Jocelyn seated himself beside the youth and watched him
keen-eyed.
"And thou canst sing of Freedom, Fool, to the jangle of thy fetters?"
"Truly, youth, 't is but my baser part lieth shackled, thus while body
pineth here, soul walketh i' the kindly sun--aye, e'en now as I do gaze on
thee, I, in my thought, do stand in a fair garden--beside a lily-pool,
where she I love cometh shy-footed to meet me, tall and gracious and sweet,
as her flowers.
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