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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509980" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>St. Francis Of Borgia By The Coffin Of Queen Isabel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Open the coffin and shroud until<br>I look on the dead again<br>Ere we place her in Grenada’s vaults,<br>Where sleep the Monarchs of Spain;<br>For unto King Charles must I swear<br>That I myself have seen<br>The regal brow of the royal corpse,<br>Our loved, lamented Queen.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The speaker was Borgia, Gaudia’s Duke,<br>A noble and gallant knight,<br>Whose step was welcome in courtly halls,<br>As his sword was keen in fight.<br>To him had his Monarch given the task<br>Of conveying to the tomb.<br>The Princess ravished from his arms<br>In the pride of youthful bloom. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">While they slowly raised the coffin lid,<br>Borgia stood silent by,<br>Recalling the beauty of the dead<br>With low, half-uttered sigh—<br>Longing to look on that statue fair<br>That wanted but life’s warm breath,<br>That matchless form which he hoped to find<br>Beautiful e’en in death. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">’Tis done, and with silent, rev’rent step<br>To the coffin draws he near,<br>And sadly looks in its depths, where lies<br>Spain’s Queen, his sovereign dear.<br>But what does he see? What horrors drear<br>Are those that meet his eye,<br>For he springs aside and shades his brow<br>With a sharp, though stifled, cry? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah’ youth and beauty, in spirit gaze<br>On what that coffin holds—<br>On the fearful object that now lies<br>In the shroud’s white ample folds:<br>Nay, turn not away with loathing look,<br>Lest that hideous sight you see,<br>In a few short years from now, alas!<br>It is what we all shall be. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let us learn as Francis Borgia learned,<br>By that lifeless form of clay,<br>To despise the changing things of earth,<br>All doomed to swift decay—<br>Deep into his heart the lesson sank,<br>Effacing earthly taint,<br>And Spain’s Court lost a gallant knight,<br>While the Church gained a Saint!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rosanna+Eleanor+Leprohon">Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509980" data-title="St. Francis Of Borgia By The Coffin Of Queen Isabel de Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon" data-description="“Open the coffin and shroud until
I look on the dead again
Ere we place her in Grenada’s vaults,
Where sleep the Monarchs of Spain;
For unto King Charles must I swear
That I myself have seen
The regal brow of the royal corpse,
Our loved, lamen..."></div>
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