III. THE DABCHICKS. I 65 



/ 



1'25. There are stiff bits of prosody in 

 ^ these verses, — one or two, indeed, quite un- 

 -'manageable, — but we must remember that 

 Frencti . metre will not read into ours. The 

 last piece I wall give flows very differently. 

 It is in express imitation of Scott — but no 

 nobler model could be chosen ; and how much 

 better for minor poets sometimes to write in 

 another's manner, than always to imitate their 

 own. 



This chant is sung by the soul of the Fran- 

 cesca of the Bird-ordained purgatory; whose 

 torment is to be dressed only in falling snow, 

 each flake striking cold to her heart as it falls, 

 — but such lace investiture costing, not a cruel 

 price per yard in souls of women, nor a mortal 

 price in souls of birds. 



Her ' snow-mantled shadow ' sings : 



" Alas, my heart ! No grief so great 

 As thinking on a happy state 

 In misery. Ah, dear is power 

 To female hearts ! Oh, blissful hour 

 When I51anche and Flavia, joined with me, 

 Tri-feminine Directory, 

 Dispensed in latitudes below 

 The laws of flounce and furbelow ; 

 And held on bird and beast debate, 

 What lives should die to serve our state! 



