LIBRARY4)F CONGRESS. 
 — ?3 3 o 3 ) 
 
 Chap. Copyright No. 
 
 Shell 
 
 -T^Pr 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 K ■ \ ■■: ■:, 
 
^i^./^^^ 
 
 .VI. 
 
OTHER BOOKS 
 
 BY 
 
 Ed Porter Thompson. 
 
 History of the Orphan Brigade. 
 
 Young People's 
 
 History of Kentucky. 
 
 (Just Published.) 
 
 The Haunted Man. 
 (A poem, in press.) 
 
<( * * * 7//- 
 
 Which tempted me to break my faith 
 And ivander in forbidden path:' 
 
The PRIEST'S Temptation 
 
 ED PORTER THOMPSON 
 
 ^ ILLUSTRATED BY B. H. PARK 
 
 ( PEB HISS-? ,1 
 
 I,OUISVIIvI.K '^ 'I *X / - C 
 
 X,EWis N. Thompson & Co. I » 
 
 1897 
 
^'S 
 
 EJntered according to Act of Congress, in the 
 
 year 1897, by 
 
 IvEwis N. Thompson, 
 
 In the Ofl&ce of the I^ibrarianof Congress, at 
 
 Washington. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 The following poem has lain for years among 
 the manuscripts of the author, and it was with 
 some reluctance that he at last consented for us 
 to put it in print. We think the story will be 
 found of general interest, and that it will meet 
 with especial favor from those earnest and 
 thoughtful readers who 
 
 " * * * ponder man's estate, 
 
 "His deeds in life, his future fate." 
 
 Thk Pubi^ishers. 
 
" And he said unto me, These are they which came out 
 of great tribulation. * * * For it became Him, for 
 whom are all things and by whom are all things, to 
 make perfect * * * through sufferings." 
 
PROEM. 
 
 ■ Through sujf' ring perfect:'' stern decree! 
 
 It frights the coward heart of many- 
 Till he from carnal mind is free 
 
 His blessing seems a ban. 
 And ''whom God loves'" — O high estate! 
 ''He chasteneth him;'' His fires are lighted 
 To burn the dross that lies htnate, 
 
 To rouse the soul that rests benis^hted. 
 Thou, sacred mi7iistry of pain, 
 By thee high Pisgah'stop we gain; 
 O ministry of sorrow, lo! 
 Through thee our angels come and go 
 With messages of love and trtdh — 
 From struggle, streyigth; and joy from ruth. 
 To that pure light that shall abide 
 We rise by something crticified. 
 
I. 
 
YOUTH'S OBSTINATE QUESTIONINGS. 
 
 ' What does it mean ? My God! my God! 
 
 This weary round of nights and days ? 
 The path that yesterday I trod 
 
 I take again ; always 
 Like Sysiphus I roll a stone 
 
 From waking hour till hour for sleep, 
 And when I sleep it turns upon 
 
 Its track, and bounds adown the steep. 
 
14 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Man's labor yields him food and drink, 
 But much it irks my soul to think 
 That these are all, or chief. Is Man 
 Foredoomed in the eternal plan 
 From day of birth to day of dying 
 To grasp at,things unsatisfying ? 
 My life doth mock me ! I am fain 
 To quit its nothingness and pain. 
 
 *'What — Pleasure? Oh! I've drained her cup, 
 
 But ev'ry draught has made me rue 
 The hour when I was led to sup 
 
 Her poisoned chalice ; few 
 Kscape her toils — a Siren, she, 
 
 Even great Ulysses fell her prey, 
 And lingered long ; but soon for me 
 
 Her charm is lost — I spurn her sway. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 15 
 
 Ambition ? What has he to give? 
 I note his votaries — they do live 
 As in a fever, and when, reaching 
 Their goal, they learn too late the teaching 
 Of him, the wise Judean king — 
 * All, all is vanity ' — they fling 
 Unprized the costly guerdon by — 
 They've learned not or to live or die. 
 
 "But what avails my sore complaining ? 
 
 It brings me nought of rest and hope ; 
 The captive at his fetters straining 
 
 Cannot his prison ope. 
 The best of men — what comes to them 
 
 To compensate for ills they bear ? 
 In silent thought do they contemn 
 
 Their lives of mean, corroding care ? 
 
16 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 Hard by there liveth one, I note 
 
 Who seemeth blest, whose words men quote 
 
 As teaching that mankind may still 
 
 Find Earth an Eden if they will — 
 
 The good priest of the Sacred Heart : 
 
 The hours of eve he sets apart 
 
 Once weekly, for converse with those 
 
 Who ask for truth, who seek repose. 
 
 *' I'll go to him, of whom men say 
 ' He walks with Jesus.' Can I fail 
 To get some light upon my way 
 
 From one who, through this vale 
 Where others wander all perplexed 
 Hath ever face that seems aglow 
 With charm to soothe a spirit vexed? " 
 This purpose formed, and musing so, 
 
A"'t 
 
 ' * * * The while, the time beguiling, 
 
 Upon the hearth did burn 
 A eheerful fire. ***" 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 17 
 
 He sought the man of God, to whom 
 He spoke of weariness and gloom, 
 And questioned of the dark decrees 
 Of fate and circumstance ; in these 
 He saw nor love nor wisdom ; life 
 Was but unsatisfying strife : 
 "What meaning hath it father? Me 
 Instruct ; for this I come to thee." 
 
 To whom the priest, benignant smiling,. 
 
 And yet with air of deep concern, 
 Replied ; the while, the time beguiling. 
 
 Upon the hearth did burn 
 A cheerful fire. Flame-shadows danced 
 
 Upon the walls where, roundabout 
 Some sacred emblems hung and'tranced 
 
 The waiting guest ; and chill without 
 
18 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 The autumn wind sighed through the trees. 
 
 Books, statuary, things to please 
 
 And edify, were gathered there ; 
 
 Some noble pictures, old and rare, 
 
 I^ed back the thought o'er thousand years 
 
 Of human struggle, hopes and fears — 
 
 Half-awed, attentive, Robert heard 
 
 The father's earnest, helpful word : — 
 
 Unrest? be said — a blessed state 
 
 For one who will not yield the fight ; 
 It leads to struggle with dark fate — 
 
 It leads at last to light. 
 "The soul is dead that slumbers ; " ease 
 
 Is fatal to a spirit made 
 To toil, to suffer, thus to seize 
 
 The prizes set. For each is laid 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 19 
 
 Some task to do, some height to win 
 Before the man can enter in 
 The realm of real light and joy. 
 Pain hath no pow'r so to destroy 
 The best in us as soft content, 
 For that corrodes which lies unspent. 
 For thee — thy doubts and restlessness 
 Are harbingers of happiness. 
 
 To what, thou askest, to what end 
 
 Is life, that one should wish to live ? 
 Oh ! thou must learn thy knee to bend, 
 
 And glad ascription give, 
 For God is Love and God is Good — 
 
 This truth received, the way is clear : 
 Though all things be not understood. 
 
 We feel no more or doubt or fear 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 That duty, high or humble, done 
 Hath other meaning than the one 
 That links it with our daily bread. 
 Or how we shall be clothed and fed. 
 We gladly serve, and, serving, grow 
 Strong in the inner man ; we know 
 That e'en in darkness, grief and pain 
 The faithful soul may find some gain. 
 
 Think not of happiness ; the glory 
 
 Of time, of cycling ages, that 
 Comes never thus ; all song and story 
 
 So teach— 'tis God's fiat. 
 The warrior sees that danger lies, 
 
 And pain and death, along the path 
 That he must tread ; but in him rise 
 
 High thoughts of duty, and he hath 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 21 
 
 A sense of how sublime is daring, 
 
 Defying, overcoming, bearing 
 
 One's self above the soft delights 
 
 To which a life of ease invites. 
 **His life, who loseth for my sake 
 
 Shall find it " — thus the Master spake ; 
 
 And though this mean e'en sore travail., 
 " Blessed is he that shall prevail." 
 
 But we may choose a noble course, 
 
 One hallowed by a sacred aim. 
 To find at last that light and force 
 
 By fiery trial came. 
 Yea; never is the highest found 
 
 By paths of ease ; fightings without, 
 Fightings within, — when these abound 
 
 The earnest soul may conquer doubt. 
 
5 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 May rise above seductive sin, 
 And set some glorious prize to win. 
 Peace comes at length, and restful state. 
 The calm of strength, the lessened weight 
 Of harmful care. Perhaps 'twere well 
 A story of my life to tell — 
 Therein thou mays't some lesson find 
 To light, to guide, a restless mind. 
 
II 
 
11. 
 
 THE OLD PRIEST'S STORY. 
 
 I pass my early years — a state 
 
 That still is pristine Paradise 
 To child upon whose steps do wait 
 
 The loving and the wise — 
 A tender father brave and true, 
 
 A mother strong in woman's strength 
 Of heart and piety. I grew 
 
 To man's estate, and left at length 
 
36 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 That home so dear, and nevermore 
 It was a home to me ; before 
 A year was passed, my loved ones died— 
 Oh woe ! that this should me betide 
 As I was wandering far ! Long time 
 I roamed in many a foreign clime ; 
 But schools and travel done at last, 
 My fortunes with the church I cast. 
 
 It was my mother's wish, and when 
 
 She died, I pondered what she taught 
 The state, the destiny of men, 
 
 I viewed in solemn thought : 
 The Spirit of the Highest, (lo ! 
 
 I speak of this with bowed head, 
 And trembling tongue), it moved me so 
 
 I could not 'scape the way it led ! 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 27 
 
 Yet there were times when Jonah's mood 
 Came on me, and my soul did brood 
 O'er fancied ills that I must meet : 
 I longed to find some safe retreat 
 From pow'r that overshadowed me — 
 But whither could the tempted flee ? 
 Ambition fired my youthful brain 
 Some height of power, some fame to gain. 
 
 But though I thus rebellious grew. 
 
 And days of darkness, days of sadness, 
 Unwonted, marked my way, I knew 
 
 At last the sacred gladness 
 That comes to him whose soul doth rest 
 
 Submissive to th' Eternal will, 
 And ev'n when I would fain divest 
 
 Myself of sense oppressive, still 
 
8 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Where worshippers were gathered, there 
 My heart went out in yearning prayer 
 For all my kind ; I seemed to see 
 A pilgrim race on bended knee 
 Imploring light, imploring strength 
 To reach the land of rest at length ; 
 »The organ's diapason ran, 
 For me, through miseries of man. 
 
 I took the vows ; my service then 
 
 Was true in every formal rite ; 
 My duties brought me pleasure when 
 
 I did them with my might. 
 But mayhap there was lack of zeal, 
 
 And lack of that deep sympathy 
 Which sufferers come at last to feel 
 
 For every form of misery. 
 
IHE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 And mayhap God had weighed and found 
 Me wanting strength that must abound 
 In those predestined to essay 
 Some hitherto untrodden way. 
 My trial came — a fining fire 
 That burned the dross of a desire 
 Which tempted me to break my faith, 
 And wander in forbidden path. 
 
 A trembling penitent one morn 
 
 Came for confession ; kneeling there 
 
 I heard her sigh as one forlorn, 
 I heard a trembling prayer ; 
 
 And then she spake aloud and cried 
 
 •' O niea culpa ! O my sin ! 
 
 O Mother of The Crucified, 
 Help, that I truly tell wherein 
 
30 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 My fault doth lie — how I have lost 
 My innocence, my peace ! " She crossed 
 Herself, then turned her eyes to me 
 And said that it was perfidy 
 To one who loved and trusted her 
 That brought her hither filled with fear — 
 Confused in thought and bowed in shame 
 She begged for light in Jesus' name. 
 
 She told how she had plighted troth 
 
 To one whose life and worth were true ; 
 He wooed her long, for she was loth 
 
 To hear his plea ; she knew 
 She could not love him ; but at last 
 
 Tne thought of other came to tempt — 
 Her father, deeply loved, was cast 
 
 Upon her care; and now she dreamt 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Of happiness for him ; her lover, 
 With Love's quick sight, did soon discover 
 This bent of heart ; it gave him cheer — 
 His wealth was ample, he would share 
 It gladly with her, that her sire 
 Should know no want, if his desire 
 She would but meet: he pleaded this — 
 She yielded ; yes, she would be his. 
 
 " I told my father," (thus she spake), 
 " How could I be so lost to sense ! 
 I hinted why I meant to take 
 
 This man, without pretense 
 Of joy therein — ot love for him. 
 
 Then he, my sire — O noble heart ! 
 The light upon his face grew dim, 
 
 He made a sudden shrinking start : 
 
32 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 With an unutterable pain 
 
 My words had stricken him ; I fain 
 
 Would have recalled them ; but too late 
 
 I saw the bosses of my fate 
 
 That I had blindly rushed upon — 
 
 The words were said, the hurt was done. 
 
 A moment, and his startled air 
 
 Gave way to look of blank despair. 
 
 " I fled away to weep and pray — 
 
 I could not bear to sit and see 
 His agony, his sore dismay, 
 
 His dark distrust of me. 
 My conscience smote me when I thought 
 
 Of his past life ; high aims ; pure mind ; 
 An all-embracing love ; deeds wrought 
 
 For God, his native land, his kind : 
 
1 fled away to weep and pray— ' 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 33 
 
 How eretime by misfortune driv'n 
 To debt and want he bad so striv'n 
 That men at last proclaimed him just, 
 And knew him true to every trust ; 
 How wrong, bereavement, much distress 
 Had wrought in him no bitterness — 
 Through all he kept his faith in good, 
 With tender heart and cheerful mood. 
 
 But yet his trials were not o'er, 
 
 For health was wrecked and strength was gone ; 
 Our means were small, and since no more 
 
 In paths where he had won 
 An honored name and home for us 
 
 Could he go forth, I took his cares, 
 His burdens, now solicitous 
 
 To soothe his sufferings, calm his fears, 
 
3i THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 That home should still to him be home, 
 
 And ever in the days to come 
 
 I be so cheery, helpful, true, 
 
 That he his state should little rue. 
 
 And God did bless me, and in me 
 
 Him I so loved, and happily 
 
 We lived, till Mammon's whisper found 
 
 My heart and taught my tongue to wound. 
 
 ** 'Twas yesterday ; one bitter hour. 
 
 In agony of tears and prayer, 
 I cried for light, I cried for power 
 
 My evil to repair. 
 I saw my duty, but it led 
 
 To cruel hurt of him who thought 
 To make me wife : I would not wed. 
 
 My purpose fixed, I straightway sought 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 35 
 
 This man who claimed me for his own, 
 And begged release. With stifled moan 
 He turned away : * So be it, then,' 
 With a strange voice he spake ; and when 
 We parted so, I seemed to see 
 Him darkly groping, seeking me ! 
 By filial love to this I'm driven — 
 But oh ! how can I be forgiven ? 
 
 '' And then I sought my father's room. 
 
 But at the door my course was stayed, 
 I heard his footsteps go and come — 
 
 I caught the words he said : 
 'And she would sell herself for gold 
 
 That I may rest, that I may live ! 
 How dark my way ! the world grows cold, 
 
 My soul now would I gladly give 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 Into the Maker's hand ! ' But now 
 I pressed within, I yearned to show 
 That I was free, that sense returning 
 Had wrought in me the instant spurning 
 Of such a union. Happy he 
 To find that care and poverty 
 Had not o'ercome. But O my vow ! 
 For broken faith contrite I bow ! ' ' 
 
 She wept for him whose hopes were dead ; 
 ** Oh ! pray for us who blindly stray — 
 Pray that our footsteps may be led 
 
 Into a perfect way ! ' ' 
 She ceased ; I spake, but stammering spake, 
 
 Such comfort as I could, and bade 
 Her be of cheer, that I would make 
 
 Due supplication, but I had 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 37 
 
 That hour, O Robert, need of prayer, 
 For the fair being kneeling there 
 Had taken captive soul and sense 
 Of me, to whom her penitence 
 Was spoken ! When she rose to go 
 Her veil fell off ; I did not know 
 The face for I had lately come 
 With this my charge to make my home. 
 
 Why speak of form and feature ? Man 
 
 Hath never speech to satisfy 
 A hearer when he seeks to scan 
 
 A woman's beauty ; I 
 Of figure Hebe-like could tell ; 
 
 Of eyes like Juno's ; of a face 
 Like Dian's, glowing with its spell 
 
 Of modest chastity and grace. 
 
i THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 But pass we that ; sufiBce to say- 
 She looked a queen whose glance could sway 
 The cold and stern ; her sadness now 
 Blent with the light upon her brow 
 That lambent played and softly shone. 
 Transfixed I sat when she was gone 
 Till the sacristan, passing spoke 
 And me from this strange reverie woke. 
 
 The heart hath ears ; but these are tuned 
 
 To tones that come from those alone 
 With whom perchance the soul communed 
 
 In other sphere, who own 
 A mystic kinship. When 
 
 She spake I heard not as I hear 
 The speech of others ; eager then 
 
 My heart was list'ning ; the dull ear 
 
IHE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 That catches sound did seem to take 
 No heed ; there was no need ; awake, 
 I heard as one asleep and dreaming, 
 When to the spirit comes the seeming 
 Of chimes, of songs, from fairy land. 
 As forth to meet that day's demand 
 I went, I prayed in vain for power 
 To break the witchery of that hour. 
 
 I was enslaved : why need I tell 
 
 To you, an ardent youth, how prone 
 I was to yield to Love's sweet spell ? 
 
 Some days I kept alone 
 And wrestled with my thought. I saw 
 
 The emblems of my priestly state 
 With pain, as tokens of the law 
 
 That was to keep me celibate. 
 
40 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 And when I saw her once again 
 We had some speech, and I was fain 
 To cry aloud and wrathful break 
 My ordination bonds, and make 
 A lover's suit to her. Restraint 
 Of sacred vow provoked complaint 
 That fate was cruel ; but I turned 
 Away, nor shewed the fire that burned. 
 
 The Phrygian king condemned to thirst — 
 
 The limpid water aye receding 
 Whene'er to quaff a draught he durst 
 
 His lips incline ; the pleading 
 Of hunger mocked by luscious fruit 
 
 That hung within his reach, but swung 
 Away from hand stretched in pursuit — 
 
 Of him whom Attic poets sung, 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 41 
 
 The sore tormented Tantalus, 
 
 I mused by day and night, for thus 
 
 I was athirst and starved of heart 
 
 While she who seemed of life a part 
 
 A-near me dwelt, and sometimes came 
 
 To speak with me, to call my name, 
 
 And when I longed to link her fate 
 
 With mine, my conscience cried, " Too late ! " 
 
 A year I strove to break the charm 
 
 That overcame me ; but, despairing 
 At last, I thought to 'scape the harm 
 
 By absence, and, declaring 
 To my Superior all my state 
 
 I found a helper in my need ; 
 He sought to save me from the fate 
 
 Of the apostate who is led 
 
3 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 By his affections from the path 
 To which his consecration hath 
 So bound him ! I was sent away 
 To foreign land, that I might stray 
 ' Mong other scenes and thus efface 
 The image that usurped the place 
 That was devote to thoughts austere, 
 Self-sacrifice and life severe. 
 
 My leave expired, I home returned. 
 
 And was to other church assigned. 
 That her for whom my heart had burned 
 
 Mine eyes no more should find. 
 My spirit humbled, I essayed 
 
 To keep my breast a-quiet ; yet 
 A mournful shadow round me played 
 
 That would not let me all forget. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. ^ 
 
 In penance not alone, nor prayer 
 I sought for peace ; my daily care 
 Was now to find in labor rest. 
 Obeying duty's stern behest 
 I came to feel I might be free, 
 Yet there were hours of poignancy, 
 And days of loneliness that left 
 Me weak as one of hope bereft. 
 
 One dreary night I could not think, 
 
 I could not work, I could not pray ; 
 I seemed to near a fatal brink. 
 
 And, startled, turned away. 
 At last I pressed a feverish pillow. 
 
 And wearied nature fell asleep, 
 As sinks to rest the high-tossed billow, 
 
 When storm is spent upon the deep ; 
 
44 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 But when in chime with midnight bell 
 The watchman cried his " All-is- well ! " 
 A beatific vision rose 
 In my lone room ; my poor repose 
 Was heightened to a warm delight : 
 It was my love, her form benight 
 As with a halo. Wondering, I 
 Did greet her with a joyous cry. 
 
 And then she said, *' I cannot rest," 
 (There was a pathos in her tone); 
 *' I wander forth with mind distressed, 
 But should not go alone : 
 Arise, and walk abroad with me — 
 
 The stars that deck the deep-blue sky 
 May have some occult potency 
 
 To bring a blessing from on high." 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 45 
 
 I rose in eager haste ; we went 
 
 Into the silent street, and bent 
 
 Our steps where she did point the way — 
 
 I owned, I joyed to feel, her sway. 
 
 My light it came not from the skies, 
 
 But from those dear, those marvellous eyes — 
 
 Eyes bright with that resplendent beam 
 
 That from the stainless heart doth gleam. 
 
 For me the world had lost its woe, 
 
 There was no sin, there was no pain ; 
 The star that, fitful, wandered so. 
 
 Had found its path again ; 
 My hungry heart was satisfied. 
 
 For Psyche, Soul, she walked with me ; 
 All thoughts, all things, were glorified — 
 
 To know, to be, was ecstasy : 
 
46 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Her voice was like the lute's low tone 
 At that still hour when day is done ; 
 I heeded little what she spake, 
 I had no wish the charm to break, 
 By word or sign. Thus on we passed — 
 How far I know not — but at last 
 She turned a mournful look on me. 
 And sighed, then vanished utterly. 
 
 ■" Alone ! alone ! " my heart made moan, 
 
 And it was lowering, pitchy night ; 
 My guide was gone, but near me shone 
 
 A strangely shifting light : 
 It fell and waned, it rose and gleamed. 
 
 Then took its zigzag course along — 
 I'd walked in sleep, and sleeping dreamed, 
 
 As lured by siren look and song ! 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 47 
 
 Instead of bright, star-studded sky, 
 A Stygian gloom dropped from on high ; 
 But now I knew myself awake, 
 In haste I moved to overtake 
 The light ahead ; a step, and prone 
 In dank morass my form was thrown : 
 My wandering feet had found a fen — 
 Wild, dismal, noxious, shunned of men ! 
 
 And what was this that danced before, 
 
 As though to lead my wanderings? 
 It was the wild-fire gliding o'er 
 
 This haunt of noisome things, — 
 ' Twas Jack-o'-Iyantern's baleful glimmer, 
 
 That leads the nighted wretch afar. 
 And dies at last with fitful shimmer. 
 
 As quickly fades the fallen star. 
 
48 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 And leaves the victim lost and lorn 
 
 To wait affrighted for the morn, 
 
 Or in some pitfall plunge and die, 
 
 Where none may hear, none heed, his cry. 
 
 I rose in pain, I turned in dread, 
 
 And with uncertain steps I sped 
 
 Away from that unholy light. 
 
 Into the black, forbidding night. 
 
 I recked not of my course, except 
 
 To keep that Will-o'-Wisp behind; 
 With furtive backward glance I kept 
 
 Right on ; my 'wildered mind 
 Did fear the igiiis fatuus 
 
 That it by evil power was lighted ; 
 Borne down as by an incubus 
 
 My blood was chill, my soul affrighted^; 
 
THE PRIEiiT'S TEMPTATION. 49 
 
 And when, the gleam no more beholding, 
 I paused to think, the gloom enfolding 
 Was like the fabled shades of Dis, 
 Where shapeless monsters writhe and hiss ; 
 But me nor sight, nor sound did greet, 
 l^or Silence here did Darkness meet — 
 In wood and fen, on dale and hill. 
 The voices of the night were still. 
 
 Not ev'n the night-crow cawed or fluttered, 
 
 Nor prowler's stealthy step was heard, 
 No insect cry nor chirp was uttered. 
 
 No breeze the foliage stirred ; 
 Nor that strange sound, when all things sleep, 
 
 As though the earth were breathing low, 
 My ear could hear ; and then did creep 
 
 O'er me a sense of utter woe. 
 
50 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 I turned me round and round, perchance 
 There might, to meet my eager glance. 
 Some " little candle's far- thrown beam " 
 From sudden-opened casement gleam ; 
 But no ! I crossed myself and cried 
 " O Mater Dolorosa, guide ! " 
 Then onward, scarcely hoping, pressed — 
 My body faint, my soul distressed. 
 
 Whither I wandered, or how far, 
 
 I never knew ; I could not note 
 Or course or distance ; brake and bar 
 
 And field and wold and moat, 
 I struggled o'er, I labored through. 
 
 As one deprived of sight, and left. 
 In tangled wild he never knew. 
 
 To seek his home ; of strength bereft. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 51 
 
 Torn, bruised, begrimed with mire and clay, 
 
 At break of day I made my way 
 
 To my abode ; and there, like her 
 
 In Gibeah, I fainted sheer, 
 
 And headlong fell, my hands upon 
 
 The threshold. Passers-by anon 
 
 Me found and bore within to bed, 
 
 Unconscious as the coffined dead. 
 
 On blackest day a cloud may lift, 
 
 And through the rift the radiant sun 
 Shine out, while nether shadows drift, 
 
 And brilliance sits upon 
 The landscape, that with laughing quiver 
 
 Doth seem to greet the sudden light, 
 And momently the brook and river 
 
 Coruscant toss their ripples bright. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 And thus with me : my clouded mind 
 With more than wonted brightness shined 
 When I revived ; I saw around 
 My friends and neighbors who had found 
 And borne me in with anxious care, 
 And still to serve me waited there. 
 Their eyes did question me, and I 
 Was quick their minds to satisfy. 
 
 And then my thoughts reviewed the years 
 
 I lived again that solemn hour 
 When I had bowed myself, in tears, 
 
 To Mother Church's power, 
 And taken vows that gave my life 
 
 To her, for service to my kind — 
 To wage with self unceasing strife, 
 
 And keep the faith with constant mind : 
 
1 HE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 53 
 
 And now I saw with vision clear 
 
 How soon I lost that holy fear 
 
 Which humbles man ; how youthful strength 
 
 And comeliness had wrought at length 
 
 With conscious pride of intellect 
 
 To breed conceit, to bring defect 
 
 Of prayer and penance, that no ill 
 
 Might come to try my untried will. 
 
 Now my temptation smote upon 
 
 My quickened soul as not before, 
 For she — her image was not gone, 
 
 My struggle was not o^er : 
 My weeks, yea months, of restlessness, 
 
 And longing that would not be stilled, 
 Had left me still in such duress 
 
 That my destruction seemed fulfilled. 
 
54 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A HON. 
 
 But j^esternight, clairvoyant, seeino^ 
 And hearing her, all prudence fleeing, 
 I gladly went, esteeming nought 
 But that delight her presence brought. 
 
 innocent enchantress ! thou 
 Hast made me curse my sacred vow ! 
 
 Oh ! what is earth ? Oh ! what were Heaven 
 To me, from thee forever driven? 
 
 This thought possessed me — impious thought ! 
 But quick my better sense returning, 
 
 1 groaned aloud, and suppliant sought — 
 My heart remorseful burning — 
 
 To turn aside the wrath of God, 
 
 That now I feared as close impending ; 
 
 I shrank from the avenging rod 
 
 That troubled conscience saw descending. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 55 
 
 But now a change — the chill of night 
 Had pinched my frame at dawn of light ; 
 But that to fever's fire amain 
 Gave place, and soon my burning brain 
 Delirious throbbed, and many a day 
 I raved or all unconscious lay. 
 Reason dethroned, her banner furled, 
 Disordered fancy roamed the world. 
 
 And straightway, horrid, fiendish things 
 
 Rose up to mock me in my pain ; 
 And once I heard such whisperings, 
 
 In the arch-tempter's strain, 
 That I was fain to list ; he said : 
 " This rack, this rage, the mind's confusion, 
 This burning blood and bursting head — 
 
 Ah ! these are life : what wild delusion 
 
56 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 To call it good ! The dead are blest, 
 Sweet, dreamless, lasting is their rest. 
 From torture dire, how soon delivered ! 
 One little stroke — the bond is severed. 
 Be still a moment : see that stream — 
 How close it glides ! Thy maddening dream 
 Can find surcease ; poor sufferer, drink ! 
 Oblivion waits at Lethe's brink." 
 
 A tremor shook my aching frame — 
 
 My thoughts to method now returning ; 
 I made a beck, th' attendant came. 
 
 And quick some change discerning, 
 He made my wish his instant care. 
 
 At my request he placed in reach 
 My dressing-case, and smiled to hear 
 
 From me again coherent speech. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 57 
 
 Thereon a Spanish dagger lay— 
 A gift from one now passed away — 
 A class-mate I had loved ; in sight 
 I kept it ; many a day and night 
 It seemed to bring him to my side, 
 To cheer, to counsel, or to chide. 
 I joyed to see now waiting me 
 This power to set the wretched free. 
 
 He turned a moment ; quick I caught 
 The poniard up ; the pointed steel 
 
 Gleamed in the lamplight swift as thought, 
 But ere my hand could deal 
 
 The fatal blow, he seized my arm- 
 Warned by the motion I had made ; 
 
 He cried for help, and wild alarm 
 
 Spread through the house ; strong hands essayed 
 
J THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 To wrest from me the deadly knife, 
 
 But I was frenzied, and the strife 
 
 Was as the din of one defending 
 
 Himself from divers foes, contending 
 
 Like Caesar's murderers, half in fear 
 
 That they themselves the harm should bear ; 
 
 And some I wounded, but at last 
 
 They did disarm and bind me fast. 
 
 I struggled with my cords till strength 
 
 Was waned, and the physician's skill 
 Did mitigate my throes ; at length 
 
 My fury ceased, but still 
 My wild imaginings awoke 
 
 At intervals, and I communed 
 With saints and devils, laughed and spoke 
 
 As the unbridled will attuned 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 My troubled spirit. Once I stood 
 Embowered as by a fragrant wood 
 Where murmuring waters flowed hard by, 
 And overhead was minstrelsy 
 Of thousand beauteous birds ; then came 
 To me, whom Tennyson to fame 
 Hath newly given, fair women seven — 
 Their faces glowing like the levin. 
 
 There Helen false, the curse of Troy ; 
 
 There Agamemnon's sacrifice ; 
 And there the charms that did destroy 
 
 Antonius strong and wise ; 
 There Jephtha's Daughter and the rest — 
 
 Some with a radiant beauty glowing. 
 And pensive those whose lives were blest 
 
 Though sorrowful ; now all bestowing 
 
60 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Their looks on me ; the Rood, beholding 
 My wretchedness, I felt, enfolding 
 My heart, a soothing charm, for me 
 They held in their sweet sympathy. 
 But three were wanton : these did smile 
 And laugh and sing and speak with guile, 
 To lure to sin, but strength I found 
 To pass from that enchanted ground. 
 
 *" Oh ! ye are tainted, every one ! 
 
 It is not woman such as you 
 Whose wiles could cast a spell upon 
 
 My life till late so true ! 
 You're beautiful ? and boast of that ? 
 
 The sirens they are so ; and she 
 Who on the throne of Russia sat 
 
 And reigned and lived so shamefully, 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 61 
 
 Was glorious of form and face, 
 And moved with a barbaric grace. 
 Oh hence ! your beauty hath no charm 
 Like her's whose ev'ry pulse is warm 
 With vestal fire ; whose life is given 
 To holy work ; VN^hose goal is Heaven. 
 Elsewhere, ye fair, your lovers seek. 
 Ye touch me not ; I was but weak." 
 
 I spake, and my companions fled. 
 Then sudden darkness fell on me — 
 
 A gloom that filled my soul with dread- 
 But when I thought to flee 
 
 Oblivion came ; nor day nor night. 
 Nor any count of time, I knew 
 
 For weary weeks ; nor sound nor sight 
 Had meaning relevant and true. 
 
j THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 I lived a thing of phantasy, 
 But the Unreal was to me 
 So real that it pierced and smote 
 My sense in thousand forms ; I wot 
 Of what has taught mankind to dread 
 The unknown regions of the dead — 
 The scenes, the pangs, the shapes of fear. 
 The horror of the soul's despair ! 
 
 One day, (they told me of the time. 
 
 When my dread illness had gone by), 
 I crossed the Styx into the clime 
 
 That holds our destiny ; 
 The boatman grim, the silent crew. 
 
 The mournful souls aboard, ashore, 
 I see them yet ! They come in view 
 
 At night when, care and labor o'er. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 63 
 
 I sit and ponder man's estate, 
 His deeds in life, his future fate. 
 Now when that gliding barque did near 
 The Unknown I^and, a sudden fear 
 My sad heart seizing, straight I broke 
 The spell of silence, wildly spoke 
 To Charon, " O thou boatman stern. 
 Why should we go ? We must return ! ' ' 
 
 ^' Mad wretch ! " he said, then stretched his hand 
 
 A-forward : " See, we speed us thither ; 
 Embarked for the mysterious strand, 
 
 The soul that cometh hither 
 Returns no more ; go to the doom 
 
 That Rhadamanthus shall decree ; 
 His throne is set." As one to whom 
 
 Has come the dreadful certainty 
 
64 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Of deep damnation, now and aye, 
 Once to the shore I fled away 
 To outer darkness, waiting not 
 For the Great Judge to fix my lot. 
 Soon came the calm of blank despair, 
 Without a hope, without a fear, 
 I neither sought nor shunned my kind — 
 The Ego was a vacant mind. 
 
 Nor sun nor moon we needed there, — 
 
 The Soul, even lost, is light essential, — 
 And when related minds are near, 
 
 The vital spark, potential. 
 Reveals them each to each, and" wholly — 
 
 The form, the feature, life and thought. 
 I wandered aimless, living solely 
 
 Because " there is no death." ' Twas nought 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 65 
 
 To me what objects met my sight. 
 But lo ! my being all alight 
 As with a flame, ere long, I turned 
 To her for whom my heart had burned, 
 For she was there, her sad face showing 
 All that was in her bosom glowing, 
 And there I read, ** Oh ! but for you 
 This had not been ; 7ny life was true ! ' * 
 
 She lived that thought — I saw it clear ; 
 
 And yet she lived deep love for me ! 
 She knew my guilt, yet held me here 
 
 In her great sympathy ! 
 To drag her down, then know her doom, — 
 
 Accursed immortality ! 
 The portals of this living tomb 
 
 Ne'er to repass, — yet know for me 
 
}6 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 She had no plaint ! I shrieked and cried 
 That rocks and mountains fall and hide 
 Me from the sight of her and Heaven ! 
 The cords that bound my limbs were riven, 
 And forth I sprang ! I tore my hair 
 And gnashed my teeth in mad despair, 
 And black remorse did rack me so 
 It felled me now as by a blow. 
 
 Me then to couch and bonds returning 
 
 The startled watchers paled to find 
 That now I wept, the hot tears burning 
 
 My pallid cheeks. My mind 
 _Had lost its fury, but a wail 
 
 Broke from my lips, uncanny, weird. 
 As of a soul beyond the pale 
 
 Of time and sense ; they stood afeard, 
 
THE PRIES T'S TEMPT A TION. 67 
 
 And sore perplexed, as now I came 
 
 To call in piteous tones her name. 
 
 I prayed to her, as one repenting, 
 
 Her doom with broken heart lamenting ; 
 
 Forgetful of our fixed fate 
 
 I cried to God to view her state — 
 
 To know that she from sin was free, 
 
 And woe should fall alone on me. 
 
 And then in answer to my prayer 
 
 Th' accusing angel came — his face 
 Was turned on me ; to shrinking fear 
 
 My pleading mood gave place : 
 There was no pity in his look, 
 
 But stern he spake, with voice appalling, 
 ' O wretched man. Heaven cannot brook 
 
 A plea from lips accursed falling ! 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Who drags one trusting soul to hell 
 Must pray no more ! He must not tell 
 The awful tragedy to Him, 
 The Highest, and the Seraphim 
 Do flee in horror from the cry ! " 
 He said, and, scowling, passed on high. 
 Cut off from God and tortured so, 
 I shrank beneath my weight of woe. 
 
 I felt my burdened heart was breaking. 
 
 When hark ! a sound fell on my ear — 
 A harper harping near was waking 
 
 A strain, low, sweet, and clear ; 
 It fell upon my soul as rain — 
 
 The gentle rain — upon the land 
 That long athirst and parched hath lain- 
 
 I fervent blessed that cunning hand ! 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 In that dark realm of Death me thought 
 She smiled, and that for me quick wrought 
 A change as though from hell to heaven ! 
 And peace and restful tone were given. 
 I seemed to stand where David played 
 For Saul when th' evil spirit laid 
 A hand on him ; I joyed to see 
 His harp had set the mad king free. 
 
 Anon I lived once more a night 
 
 Upon the Adriatic sea, 
 In Venice fair ; the sound, the sight, 
 
 Had come again to me : 
 'Twas when, without a gondolier, 
 
 That I might spend the midnight hour 
 In dreamy thought, I floated there, 
 
 And gave myself to reverie's power. 
 
70 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Till from an open lattice fell 
 Entrancing sounds that cast a spell 
 On me — so witching were they, so 
 A-burdened with a nameless woe : 
 There was no voice, but that wild lyre 
 Could speak as with a tongue of fire : 
 I pulled within a shadow, near, 
 That I might linger there to hear. 
 
 I marked that 'neath her window stood 
 
 A man who seemed young — of mold 
 Apollo-like, of stature good. 
 
 But reft of bearing bold, 
 For he was weeping bitterly. 
 
 As though his heart-strings she were sweeping. 
 I could not stay, it ought not be 
 
 That stranger view the tryst there keeping. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 71 
 
 My gondola I turned, then crept 
 Away ; but as my course I kept 
 With motion slow, that stormy strain 
 Did fall into a sad refrain 
 Of love and pity. That night, sleeping, 
 I dreamed of two young lovers weeping — 
 She o'er that harp with yearning heart, 
 Though she had willed that they must part. 
 
 But while I rested thus, and dreamed 
 Of happier days, my watchers said — 
 
 Ivow murmuring, tremulous, it seemed — 
 
 ''The Evil One is fled! 
 
 He sleeps ; he rests ; now all is well ! " 
 The player ceased, but not the charm, 
 
 For blessed slumber on me fell ; 
 
 Nor sense of guilt nor thought of harm 
 
72 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Was with me on the morrow morn 
 When I awaked, for hope was born 
 That I might rise again, and strive 
 A new, a nobler life, to live. 
 But when I pondered on my state, 
 Weak, weary as I was, my fate 
 Did seem so cheerless that anew 
 My fever came, my frenzy grew. 
 
 Yet but a little space — again 
 
 A-near, but still beyond my sight, 
 The player played a heavenly strain — 
 
 It thrilled me with delight. 
 And now she sang : her voice was sweet 
 
 As hers who by the shepherd's tents 
 The kids doth feed ; the words were meet 
 
 To soothe to rest disordered sense. 
 
" ^~lnd ]i07i' she sang: her voiee rvas siveef 
 As hers ccho by the shepherd's feiits 
 The kids doth feed; * •+• * " 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 73 
 
 Clear as the mountain maid doth sing 
 On Tyrol's hills ; soft as the ring 
 Of silver bells at eventide 
 The sacred altar steps beside. 
 Her voice was sad, but with its sadness 
 There came to me foretaste of gladness, 
 For high resolve was born that hour, 
 And woke in me a sense of power. 
 
 My heart was tuned to ecstasy — 
 
 I seemed to hear what gave me joy 
 In earliest manhood, wandering free. 
 
 Or when a happy boy : 
 The rustic's reed, the roundelay 
 
 Of song-birds in the dewy morn. 
 And that dear voice at close of day, 
 
 My mother's to her only born. 
 
74 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 I walked again by Gallilee 
 Where wandering once, I chanced to see 
 Some Hebrew maidens who did sing 
 The triumphs of the Shepherd King. 
 I slept again — how sweet that rest ! 
 My frenzy gone and calm my breast ! 
 Next day she sat beside me playing, 
 And thus the harp and voice were saying 
 
 " O weary soul ! rest and be glad. 
 
 For God is good ; the bruised reed 
 
 He will not break ; thy heart so sad 
 Must turn to him in time of need : 
 
 The thorn that pricks the Christian's side 
 
 May bring a glory else denied. 
 
 ** O fainting soul ! look up and see — 
 The world is full of life and beauty 
 To him who through infirmity 
 
 Can gather strength for ev'ry duty : 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. ' 75 
 
 The Cross that willing shoulders bear 
 May bring the peace of Heaven here. 
 
 * O earnest soul ! arise and take 
 
 Thy burden up ; the light of God 
 Will shine upon thy heart and wake 
 
 To life and joy ; th' avenger's rod 
 Shall pass when thou hast set thy face 
 Steadfastly — trusting in His grace.*' 
 
 There was no need that I should speak — 
 
 She knew my secret ; but I told 
 How I had loved her, and how weak 
 
 I was, how uncontrolled 
 My will when I had sought to still 
 
 The yearnings of my heart for her, 
 And solemn vows to Heaven fulfill. 
 
 The trembling sigh, the falling tear, 
 
76 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 I noted as I told my story — 
 They spoke her heart, but with a glory 
 As of the Holy Virgin, shone 
 Her face when with inspiring tone 
 She said : "I have my work ; go thou 
 To thine ; redeem that sacred vow ; 
 And at the last the God of love 
 Will give us each to each above ; 
 
 And this is Heaven's betrothal kiss — " 
 
 She pressed her lips to mine, and passed 
 From out the room. One thrill of bliss — 
 
 The die of fate was cast : 
 Kmaciate, trembly as I was, 
 
 I rose and stretched my feeble frame 
 And straightway now as one who has 
 
 A new-found sense, to me there came 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 77 
 
 A sudden change, a vital glow, 
 
 And from that hour my strength did grow, 
 
 And with it grew a force of will 
 
 To master wandering thoughts, to still 
 
 The voice that tempted yet ; I prayed 
 
 That hence my pathway might be laid 
 
 Where I could wage unceasing strife 
 
 For lowly souls in search of life. 
 
 O Mary, Mother ! when I speak 
 
 Of that far time, I seem to see 
 The face that found me vain and weak — 
 
 It comes again to me, 
 But not as then ; 'tis now a light 
 
 That cheers me as the beacon star 
 That greets the mariner at night. 
 
 His home, his haven, still afar. 
 
"8 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 O Mater Misericordiae ! 
 Forgive me if I sometimes sigh 
 To feel myself so far from shore, 
 And wish th' eventful voyage o'er ; 
 Forgive me if I often trace 
 In hers thine own angelic face ! 
 Thy devotee, thy daughter, she — 
 My thought of her is faith to thee. 
 
 Hark — note that bell ! how late the hour ! 
 
 And my sad story holds you yet ; 
 But bide till I can hasten o'er 
 
 The time since last we met : 
 'Tis two score years and ten, the while 
 
 On every sea, in calm and storm, 
 I've sailed ; I've lived in long exile 
 
 With those who would have wrought me harm 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 79 
 
 But that the eye of God did hold 
 
 Me in His sight, His arms enfold ; 
 
 And ever as my need befel, 
 
 His strength, His grace, sufficed me well ; 
 
 And ever as I sought to preach 
 
 Th' eternal Word, and eke to teach 
 
 The way of life, my soul did find 
 
 A joy in service to my kind. 
 
 And ever, as the great Swede taught. 
 
 When I was striving to impart 
 All good I had received, it wrought 
 
 Divinely on my heart, 
 As fire that warmth and light doth spread 
 
 Is none the less for what it gives, 
 My life glowed out ; it even fed 
 
 On what it gave, till my soul lives 
 
80 THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA HON. 
 
 As in a glow of quiet joy 
 That sweetens ev'ry hour's employ ; 
 And I do strive to render praise 
 By service in the several ways 
 That open into him who feels 
 The sacred influx that reveals 
 How glorious life to every man 
 Who shapes it on some noble plan ! 
 
 O friend ! some men there are who have 
 
 One talent, one — a single one ; 
 To them life means but little, save 
 
 That labor must be done. 
 They question not but how to win 
 
 Their daily bread in humble toil ; 
 No fields of joy they enter in, 
 
 Nor know the fiery soul's turmoil. 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Still, they have pleasures, and if true 
 To duties set for them to do, 
 There is reserved for them in Heaven 
 A better life than earth hath given- 
 Yea, if they strive, with feeble light, 
 To keep the narrow path of Right, 
 
 (Our Father sees), they shall not miss 
 
 Abundant entrance into bliss. 
 
 But Robert, thou— hast thou not five? 
 
 Or mayhap ten ? Oh ! strive to learn 
 What are thy powers, if thou would'stlive 
 
 Life's truest meed to earn ; 
 Or if Jehovah's chastening hand 
 
 Thou would'st not feel, go straightway gird 
 Thine armor on and take thy stand 
 
 Fore something that hath eretime stirred 
 
 81 
 
I THE PRIEST'S TEMPTA TION. 
 
 Thy childish thought. How fearful are 
 The gifts of God ! If thou would'st mar 
 Thy being, bury them ; but know 
 That thou to Him who gave shalt show 
 Why that has idle, useless, lain 
 Which should have brought to others gain 
 Abuse them, hide them — scorpion stings 
 Shall drive thee unto nobler things. 
 
Ill 
 
III. 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 In Robert's heart, he blessed the priest, 
 
 But silent rose and went away ; 
 He sought his bed and sank to rest, 
 
 But aye through Fancy's play 
 In dreams, he saw the ways of men. 
 
 Their woes, their wants ; and eke a light 
 Not of the earth was present when 
 
 He saw some toiler through the Night 
 
; THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Of Time, whose joy it was to live 
 That others might be blest ; to give 
 Sight to the blind, feet to the lame ; 
 To save from crime, to lift from shame ; 
 To wipe away the mourner's tear. 
 And aching, breaking hearts to cheer. 
 And then a passing spirit said 
 ' Who liveth to himself is dead ! " 
 
 All after days this questioner 
 
 Who the good man of God had sought 
 In cynic mood, in doubt, in fear, 
 
 And misanthropic thought, — 
 He made his years of life a time 
 
 In which to shape himself for Heaven, 
 By right employ, by steps that climb 
 
 O'er obstacles; and aye the leaven 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 87 
 
 Of high intent did give each deed, 
 
 Howe'er obscure, the fullest meed 
 
 Of growth, of strength, of joy that springs 
 
 Perennial in the soul that brings 
 
 Its gift of service, gift of light 
 
 To those who walk as in the night 
 
 Of nescience, suffering — the great throng 
 
 Who struggle in the grasp of wrong. 
 
 One Sabbath morn — three years had passed 
 
 Since he had heard the father's story — 
 He sat in church ; his eyes were cast 
 
 Upon the altai's glory 
 Of incense, images, and lights 
 
 And on the old priest serving there — 
 A scene that hearts devout invites 
 
 To sacred reverie and prayer. 
 
i THE PRIEST'S TEMPTATION. 
 
 The father knelt, his voice arose 
 Clear, reverent, and sweet to those 
 Who long had heard its tender tone 
 Of love and pity, and had known 
 The smile of that benignant face 
 Where every virtue lent its grace ; 
 Their loving confidence it wrought 
 To tune to worship every thought. 
 
 But lo ! came silence like a spell — 
 
 For sudden he had ceased to speak ; 
 His face upon the cushion fell — 
 
 They thought him only weak, 
 Or that emotion overcame. 
 
 And even irreverent heads were bent 
 As though the sound of Sacred Name 
 
 Just parted from his lips, had sent 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 An instant thrill through all ; and now 
 Through open window, sweeping low, 
 A turtle dove flew in and stood 
 A-top the sacred desk, and cooed 
 As to its mate, then circled round 
 The kneeling form, and up, and found 
 High in the altar's dome a way 
 Into the bright and open day. 
 
 Some moments thus ; then whispers broke 
 The quietude : " He is so still ! " 
 
 An altar-boy, alarmed, up-spoke, 
 " Oh ! come ; he seemeth ill ! " 
 
 Then all arose from bended knee, 
 As by one impulse ; one man said 
 
 ' Be quiet, friends, and I will see " — 
 
 Then quickly cried " Oh ! he is dead !" 
 
90 THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 
 
 Silence and stillness for space — 
 
 Then each one sank into his place, 
 
 As though the simoom's breath had swept 
 
 Athwart ; and so they sat and wept 
 
 Till strong hands bore him hence, and left 
 
 The great church as a child bereft 
 
 Of father, only friend, and guide — 
 
 None loved, none trusted so, beside. 
 
 That week, as robed for sepulture 
 
 He lay, and those who mourned him cast 
 Once more a look upon the pure 
 
 And saintly face, at last 
 Came one, a veiltd stranger, slow 
 
 With trembling step, and kneeled beside : 
 She drew her veil, and, moaning low, 
 
 She kissed him fervently and cried 
 
THE PRIEST'S TEMPT A TION. 91 
 
 " O faithful unto death, I come ! " 
 Then weeping rose and left the room, 
 And drove, they knew not whither then, 
 But Robert told them all, and when, 
 Full soon, they learned that she was dead, 
 His people reverently said 
 
 "This day to him his love is given — 
 O sweet companionship in Heaven." 
 
 Frankfort, Ky., 1893.