Students who desire To examine the skull and brain may do so now At their convenience in the laboratory.
Said Friar Yves: "God will bless Saint Louis' other-worldliness. Whatever the fate be, still I fare To fight for the Holy Sepulcher. If I survive, I shall return With precious things from Palestine-- Gold for my purse, spices and wine, Glory to wear among my kin. Fame as a warrior I shall win. But, otherwise, if I am slain In Jesus' cause, my soul shall earn Immortal life washed white from sin."
Said Friar Yves: "Come what will-- Riches and glory, death and woe-- At dawn to Palestine I go. Whether I live or die, I gain To fly the tepid good and ill Of daily living in Champagne, Where those who reach salvation lose The treasures, raptures of the earth, Captured, possessed, and made to serve The gospel love of Jesus' birth, Sacrifice, death; where even those Passing from pious works and prayer To paradise are not received As those who battled, strove, and lived, And periled bodies, as I choose To peril mine, and thus to use Body and soul to build the throne Of Louis the Saint, where Joseph's care Lay Jesus under a granite stone."
Then Friar Yves buckled on His breastplate, and, at break of dawn, With crossboy, halberd took his way, Walked without resting, without pause, Till the sun hovered at midday Over a tree of glistening leaves, Where a spring gurgled. "Hunger gnaws My stomach," whispered Friar Yves. "If I," he sighed, "could only gain, Like yonder spring, an inner source Of life, and need not dew or rain Of human love, or human friends, And thus accomplish my soul's ends Within myself! No," said the friar; "There is one water and one fire; There is one Spirit, which is God. And what are we but streams and springs Through which He takes His wanderings? Lord, I am weak, I am afraid; Show me the way!" the friar prayed. "Where do I flow and to what end? Am I of Thee, or do I blend Hereafter with Thee?"
Yves heard, While praying, sounds as when the sod Teems with a swarm of insect things. He dropped his halberd to look down, And then his waking vision blurred, As one before a light will frown. His inner ear was caught and stirred By voices; then the chestnut tree Became a step beside a throne. Breathless he lay and fearfully, While on his brain a vision shone. Said a Great Voice of sweetest tone: "The time has come when I must take The form of man for mankind's sake. This drama is played long enough By creatures who have naught of me, Save what comes up from foam of the sea To crawling moss or swimming weeds, At last to man. From heaven in flame, Pure, whole, and vital, down I fly, And take a mortal's form and name, And labor for the race's needs." Then Friar Yves dreamed the sky Flushed like a bride's face rosily, And shot to lightning from its bloom. The world leaped like a babe in the womb, And choral voices from heaven's cope Circled the earth like singing stars: "O wondrous hope, O sweetest hope, O passion realized at last; O end of hunger, fear, and wars, O victory over the bottomless, vast Valley of Death!"