"I come to see you;
It pleased me to come;
But I won't come any longer:
It's too far from home.
"It wouldn't be too far,
And it wouldn't be too rough,
But, just understand,
You're not near good enough."
Ivo sat at the table, absorbed in unpleasant reflections. He called to
mind how at this hour he was usually to be found at his solitary lamp,
struggling to penetrate the mysteries of creation and redemption,--how
far he was then removed from all the doings of men, from all the wishes
and aims of individuals; and he contrasted all this with what he now
saw of the life led by his natural comrades in age and station. The
nucleus of all their thoughts and actions was love, whether they made
it the subject of wanton jibes or of strains of tender longing. Once
more existence lay before him, severed, as by a sharp steel, into two
irreconcilable halves,--the secular and the ecclesiastical. Babbett,
who had watched him closely, had not failed to perceive the irksome
twitches of the muscles of his face: she now approached the singers,
saying,--
"Why, a'n't you ashamed of yourselves? Can't you sing a single decent
song?"