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All things in earth and air
Hæder, the blind old God,
O PRECIOUS evenings ! all too swift1]
sped ! Leaving us heirs to amplest heritage Of all the best thoughts of the greates
sages, And giving tongues unto the silen
dead ! How our hearts glowed and trembled a
she read, Interpreting by tones the wondrou
pages Of the great poet who foreruns th
ages, Anticipating all that shall be said ! O happy Reader ! havin (or thy text The magic book, whose Sibyllin
leaves have caught The rarest essence of all humai
thought ! O happy Poet ! by no critic vext ! How must thy listening spirit nov
They laid him in his ship,
God sent his Singers upon earth
gray old man, the third and last, Sang in cathedrals dim and vast, While the majestic organ rolled Contrition from its mouths of gold. And those who heard the Singers three Disputed which the best might be ; For still their music seemed to start Discordant echoes in each heart.
But the great Master said, “I see
one thing more;
And come and follow me!”
Those sacred words hath said,
Laid on a young man's head.
The unseen Christ shall move,
“Dost thou, dear Lord, approve ?”. Beside him at the marriage feast shall be,
To make the scene more fair ;
Of pain and midnight prayer.
Like the beloved John
And thus to journey on !
TAKE them, O Death ! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own ! Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone ! Take them, O Grave ! and let them lie
Folded upon thy narrow shelves, As garments by the soul laid by,
And precious only to ourselves !
Our little life is but a gust
And trails its blossoms in the dust !
THE BLIND GIRL OF CASTÈL-CUILLÈ.
FROM THE GACON OF JASMIN.
Only the Lowland tongue of Scotland might
And take, 0 Reader, for the deed the will.
This old Te Deum, rustic rites attending,
Seemed from the clouds descending ; At the foot of the mountain height When lo ! a merry company
Where is perched Castèl-Cuillè, Of rosy village girls, clean as the eye, When the apple, the plum, and the al- Each one with her attendant swain, mond tree
Came to the cliff, all singing the same In the plain below were growing
strain ; white,
Resembling there, so near unto the sky, This is the song one might perceive Rejoicing angels, that kind Heaven has On a Wednesday morn of Saint Joseph's
sent For their delight and our encourage
ment. “The roads should blossom, the roads Together blending, should bloom,
And soon descending So fair a bride shall leave her home!
The narrow sweep Should blossom and bloom with garlands Of the hillside steep, gay,
They wind aslant o fair a bride shall pass to-day !”
Towards Saint Amant,
Through leafy alleys
Baptiste stands sighing, with silent Of verdurous valleys
tongue ? With merry sallies
And yet the bride is fair and young Singing their chant:
Is it Saint Joseph would say to us all,
That love, o’er-hasty, precedeth a fall ? “The roads should blossom, the roads O no! for a maiden frail, 1 trow, should bloom,
Never bore so lofty a brow ! So fair a bride shall leave her home! What lovers ! they give not a single Should blossom and bloom with garlands
To see them so careless and cold to-day, So fair a bride shall pass to-day !”.
These are grand people, one would
say: It is Baptiste, and his affianced maiden, What ails Baptiste ? what grief doth him With garlands for the bridal laden !
oppress? The sky was blue ; without one cloud of It is, that, half-way up the hill, gloom,
In yon cottage, by whose walls The sun of March was shining brightly, Stand the cart-house and the stalls, And to the air the freshening wind gave Dwelleth the blind orphan still, lightly
Daughter of a veteran old ; Its breathings of perfume.
And you must know, one year ago,
That Margaret, the young and tenWhen one beholds the dusky hedges
Was the village pride and splerdor, A rustic bridal, ah! how sweet it is ! And Baptiste her lover bold. To sounds of joyous melodies,
Love, the deceiver, them ensnared ; That touch with tenderness the trem- For them the altar was prepared ; bling bosom,
But alas! the summer's blight, A band of maidens
The dread disease that none can stay, Gayly frolicking,
The pestilence that walks by night,
Took'the young bride's siglit away.
All at the father's stern command was
changed; With fingers pressing,
Their peace was gone, but not their love Till in the veriest
estranged. Madness of mirth, as they dance, Wearied at home, erelong the lover fled ; They retreat and advance,
Returned but three short days ago, Trying whose laugh shall be loud- The golden chain they round him est and merriest;
throw, While the bride, with roguish eyes, He is enticed, and onward led Sporting with them, now escapes and To marry Angela, and yet cries :
Is thinking ever of Margaret.
Then suddenly a maiden cried,
“ Anna, Theresa, Mary, Kate !
Here comes the cripple Jane !” And by And all pursue with eager haste,
a fountain's side And all attain what they pursue, A woman, bent and gray with years, And touch her pretty apron fresh and new, Under the mulberry-trees appears, And the linen kirtle round her waist. And all towards her run, as fleet
As had they wings upon their feet. Meanwhile, whence comes it that among
It is that Jane, the cripple Jane, These youthful maidens fresh and Is a soothsayer, wary and kind. fair,
She telleth fortunes, and none complain. So joyous, with such laughing air, She promises one a village swain,
Another a happy wedding-day, Arrived ! yet keeps aloof so far! And the bride a lovely boy straight. And knows that of my night he is the way.
star! All comes to pass as she avers ; Knows that long months I wait alone, She never deceives, she never errs.
And count the moments since he went But for this once the village seer
away ! Wears a countenance severe, Come ! keep the promise of that happier nd from beneath her eyebrows thin and
That I may keep the faith to thee I Her two eyes flash like cannons
plighted ! bright
What joy have I without thee ? what Aimed at the bridegroom in waist
delight ? coat blue,
Grief wastes my life, and makes it misWho, like a statue, stands in view ;
ery ; Changing color, as well he might, Day for the others ever, but for me When the beldame wrinkled and Forever night ! forever night ! gray
When he is gone 't is dark ! my soul is Takes the young bride by the hand,
sad ! And, with the tip of her reedy wand I suffer ! O my God ! come, make me Making the sign of the cross, doth
glad. say : —
When he is near, no thoughts of day in* Thoughtless Angela, beware!
trude ; Lest, when thou weddest this false Day has blue heavens, but Baptiste has bridegroom,
blue eyes ! Thou diggest for thyself a tomb !". Within them shines for me a heaven of nd she was silent; and the maidens fair
love, iw from each eye escape a swollen tear; A heaven all happiness, like that above, ut on a little streamlet silver-clear,
No more of grief ! no more of lassiWhat are two drops of turbid rain ?
tude ! Saddened a moment, the bridal train Earth I forget, and heaven, and all Resumed the dance and song again ;
distresses, he bridegroom only was pale with When seated by my side my hand he
presses ; And down green alleys
But when alone, remember all ! Of verdurous valleys,
Where is Baptiste ? he hears not when I With merry sallies,
call ! They sang the refrain : A branch of ivy, dying on the ground,
I need some bough to twine around ! The roads should blossom, the roads In pity cone ! be to my suffering kind ! should bloom,
True love, they say, in grief doth more o fair a bride shall leave her home!
abound ! hould blossom and bloom with garlands What then — when one is blind ?
gay, o fair a bride shall pass to-day !”
“Who knows ? perhaps I am for
Ah! woe is me! then bear me to my II.
O God! what thoughts within me Nd by suffering worn and weary,
waken! lut beautiful as some fair angel yet, Away! he will return ! I do but rave ! 'hus lamented Margaret,
He will return ! I need not fear ! n her cottage lone and dreary :
He swore it by our Saviour dear;
He could not come at his own will; “He has arriveil ! arrived at last ! Is weary, or perhaps is ill ! 'et. Jane has named him not these three Perhaps his heart, in this clisguise, days past;
Prepares for me some sweet surprise !
less eyes ;
But some one comes ! Though blind, “I know it !" answered Margaret my heart can see !
Whoin the vision, with aspect black as And that deceives me not! 't is he ! 't is
Mastered again ; and its hand of ice
Held her heart crushed, as in a vice ! And the door ajar is set,
“Paul, be not sad ! 'T is a holi And poor, confiding Margaret
day; Rises, with outstretched arms, but sight
To-morrow put on thy doublet gay.
But leave me now for a while alone." 'T is only Paul, her brother, who thus Away, with a hop and a jumpcries :
went Paul, Angela the bride has passed !
And, as he whistled along the hall, I saw the wedding guests go by ;
Entered Jane, the crippled crone. Tell me, my sister, why were we not asked ?
“Holy Virgin ! what dreadful heat! For all are there but you and I !” I am faint, and weary, and out of
But thou art cold, - art chill as
My little friend ! what ails thee,
sweet?” be?” “My sister, 't is Baptiste, thy “Nothing! I heard them singing home
the bride ; friend!”
And, as I listened to the song,
I thought my turn would come A cry the blind girl gave, but nothing
Thou knowest it is at Whitsuntide. A milky whiteness spreads upon her Thy cards forsooth can never lie, cheeks ;
To me such joy they prophesy, An icy hand, as heavy as lead,
Thy skill shall be vaunted far and Descending, as her brother speaks,
wide Upon her heart, that has ceased to
When they behold him at my beat,
side. Suspends awhile its life and heat.
And poor Baptiste, what sayest She stands beside the boy, now sore dis
It must seem long to him ;- — methinks A wax Madonna as a peasant dressed.
I see him now !"
Jane, shuddering, her hand doth At length, the bridal song again
press : Brings her back to her sorrow and • Thy love I cannot all approve; pain.
We must not trust too much to happi
“Hark! the joyous airs are ring- Go, pray to God, that thou mayst love ing!
him less !” Sister, dost thou hear them sing- “ The more I pray, the more I ing?
love! How merrily they laugh and jest ! It is no sin, for God is on my side! " Would we were bidden with the It was enough ; and Jane no more rerest!
plied. I would don my hose of homespun gray,
Now to all hope her heart is barred and And my doublet of linen striped
But to deceive the beldame old Perhaps they will come ; for they She takes a sweet, contented air ; do not wed
Speak of foul weather or of fair, Till to-morrow at seven o'clock, it is At every word the maiden smiles ! said !”
Thus the beguiler she beguiles ;
and gay ;