LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Shelf_ L ]_.17-S7 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. THE STORY OF JUDETH A TALE OF BETHANY WITH POEMS OF HOME, HEART, AND HEARTH BY WILLIAM V. LAWRANCE Not what we see or what we dream Should be alone the poet's theme ; For eyes deceive and dreams but cheat, And give the bitter for the sweet : The heart, if right, is better guide To lead us than all else beside. CAMBRIDGE primes at tfje Htoersi&e press 1889 Copyright, 1889, By WILLIAM V. LAWRANCE. All rights reserved To MY BELOVED WIFE, FOR TWENTY-FIVE YEARS MY COMPANION, AND TO OUR ONLY CHILD, HERBERT W. LAWRANCE, THIS OFFERING IS DEDICATED: TO THE MOTHER, AS A TESTIMONIAL OF HER WORTH: TO THE SON, AS AN INJUNCTION TO HONOR HER WHO HAS MADE THIS BOOK A POSSIBILITY. THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. In presenting this volume to the public, the Author feels that he has but imperfectly accomplished that which he sought to do, and that the work is but a dim shadow of the ideal which he would reach. Whatever faults there are, and there are many and serious ones, are in the infirmity of the writer, and not in the subject. It may seem presump- tion, and he is conscious of the justness of the charge against him, to attempt a work so far beyond his ability to do it the justice it merits. But in its reception by the public he hopes, that, while the work itself may not reach the standard he has sought to attain, yet the subject may receive that fair and candid consideration which it merits ; and that, looking beyond the Author and his work, the higher ideal may be reached by the reader. Should this be achieved, he is content to be considered but as the guide leading the way to the beautiful gardens of Hesperides, al- though not being permitted to enter. Before the simple and fragmentary story of the death and resurrection of Lazarus, given in the Gospels, we have stood wondering why a thing so momentous in its bearing and effect, not only in the life and future of the dead brought to life, but to the world of mankind, should be so lightly passed over, and left in utter silence. Far be it from us to seek to supply aught to this story, either in con- tinuation or in supposition, well knowing that such attempt would well merit the bitterest rebuke that could be admin- istered to our temerity. As it is given we leave it, adding nothing, nor detracting aught from it. The method and purpose of the story of Judeth is seem- VI PREFACE ingly so plain and simple that it appears to the writer un- necessary to even allude to its design. If this is not the case, then the whole is a dismal failure, and any explanation that might be made or elucidation given would not save it from absolute and merited condemnation, and an immediate banishment to that limbo of purposeless writings, the rag- man's cart. What is writ is writ, and it now goes to that inexorable judge, the public, to receive approval or condemnation. We may await its decree as the criminal the decision of the court of last resort, who, though sustained by a conscious knowledge of his innocence, knows that only the slender thread of attenuated hope hangs on the word of fallible man, and if that fail he is lost : yet, like that condemned man, we may be pardoned if we should with him feel that, if justice be awarded us, the decree will not be against THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. PAGE The Story of Judeth 1 My Last Night's Dream 353 The Roses have come again 361 The Oath 363 Song ' 368 Music that is ever New 369 On the Abolition of Slavery 370 A Vision of Love 372 The Old Regime: Salutation 377 The Coming of the Rain 385 Golden-rod 387 Gretchen 389 Theulda's Vigil 390 The City upon the Hill 394 The Itinerant 397 The Land of the Harp and the Shamrock . . . 400 The Old River Bridge 401 The Song which the Robin sung 403 Funeral Hymn 405 Decoration Hymn 406 The Dead Priest 407 Who Knows ? . .408 Compensation 409 Remembered 409 viii CONTENTS. My Guests 411 The Old Quaker Homestead ....... 414 Le Chemin Dore . . . . . . . . 418 Adonis' Invocation to Aphrodite 419 Her Hand 420 Song 422 The Hawk's Nest on New River 423 The Gathering of the Veterans 425 Why Silent ? 430 Lux Futuro 432 Only a Woman c 434 Touch the Harp 436 Kitty McDonald's Ride 438 Centennial 444 Centennial Song 454 Abraham Lincoln : A Memorial Ode 455 The Roses were blooming on Conemaugh . . . 460 THE STORY OF JUDETH CANTO FIKST. MORNING ON OLIVET. JUDETH. And this the daylight, this the balmy air We call the source of life ! How sweet, how fair, Are all created things of Nature ! See, Where soars yon bird the ether light and free ! It seems a mote floating afar and high, In this magnificently dreamy sky. I would not know it were a bird, but guess — If guessing were my mood, not seriousness — It were a knotted skein of gossamer Floating from thread intangible, afar, Yet anchored to the earth, save that now faint And throbbing through the air, more like a plaint From heart care-sore than note of joy, his song Floats downward to my ear. II. LAZARUS. Judeth, how strong That picture there presents of eager soul Striving to reach its destiny. The goal, Which first invitingly in reach appears, Sweeps farther outward, farther yet, as nears The hoped-for rest ; and yet with tireless wings It soars and soars, and soaring ever sings Its joyful song of hbpe unquenched. 2 THE STORY OF JUDETH JUDETH. The Soul! I would not pain you with my doubt, nor roll The darkling shadow of my life athwart The golden sunshine of your hope, with swart, Uncertain night, which settles close upon The grave, when in it all of life is gone, Yet such is my belief. The light gone out, The house is cold and dark! LAZARUS. What! Then you doubt? JUDETH. Nay, I do more than doubt ; for I stand not Uncertain of my faith, nor have forgot The teaching of my youth, that man is clay, The grave his home, and dust, when laid away, Is all there is of him. My friend, in me, Of straitest sect, behold a Sadducee. III. LAZARUS. Nay, you but jest ! In you and me, 't is true, Flows the rich blood of Israel's ardent Jew — In fact, so intermingled in our veins That little else in them save that remains ! From it the warmth, the fire — hot passion — love, Lurk hidden in our hearts in test to prove We can be true in hate, in love, in pride, True to our faith, the chief of all beside ; Our fathers' faith, religion, empire, name, — Ours, blood-inherited, Altars and Fame ! JUDETH. Religion ! Well, yes ; by that name as well As any, if our meaning we may tell ; Mine is too plain. The god I serve this life, And close the book at that. The vexing strife Of Souls seeking their homes in fleshless dress Is not a pleasant thought. If God will .bless, MORNING ON OLIVET Let it be here and now with bounteous hand ; I want no sweeter and no fairer land ! Why should we seek a better ? You and I Clasp hands and walk beneath this sunny sky, With flowers beneath our feet songs in our ears And hearts, while beautiful the earth appears, In all the varied hues of Nature's dress Clothes her fair form and sits in loveliness ! Is this not Heaven ? Ah ! well I know for me No brighter day dawns through Eternity. What, then, would you ask more ? IV. LAZARUS. These fleeting years Are sweet, fair Judeth, but too full of tears : While Joy's few days are not enough for me. My life, a Soul eternal born and free, In dull obscurity but faintly glows, — Just catches on this earth the quick'ning throes Of being born to launch at last in song, As yon sweet bird the brighter fields among, Eternity's first day in opening dawn Before me spread. JUDETH. I know that you are drawn, Through the blind hoodwink of a blinder faith, To a belief no witness, even, hath. For who, of all the dead, returning bears Remotest proof of Soul-life ? Where, too, fares The risen dead whose sojourn sure would be Sometime on earth through its eternity ? You dream, kind friend ! This clay you call the mould Is all, and all must die when it is cold. How cometh joy or pain to that which hath Nor nerves nor vital parts ? How can God's wrath, Or his great love, touch that which this weak hand Can brush away, I cannot understand ! God's love and his great mercy speak through Death, To us this consolation, Life is breath. THE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS. If I could do such sacrilege to God To even dare to think you but a clod, Yet to yourself, the choicest earthly bloom, I dare not do injustice. In the Tomb, The withered, dead, decaying sweetness lies Forever hid from tear-o'erburdened eyes ; Can this be lost forever ? But one mould In all the world can your fair likeness hold ! God works not all in vain, and no blind Chance Here stumbles on divine resemblance : Ah ! no : immortal hands immortal made Such beauty so that it should never fade ! JUDETH. You lose yourself in compliments to me. The grossest forms immortal, too, must be, Else God would be but partial and not just. VI. And there you fail again : of fairest dust The beautiful its fadeless beauty keeps — More lovely grows as heavenward on it sweeps, Refined, refining through the dateless years. In grosser flesh the struggling soul appears Cramped, all awry, — deformity's deformed : From the coarse chrysalis the sun has warmed, Comes struggling forth from its close-crowded home The worm which has a butterfly become. See ! how it writhes to burst its prison cell — Shakes from its wings its flight-impeding shell, Pants at each breath in life's ecstatic pain, Thrills with its pleasure until death again Seems seizing on its vital powers, while wing And body in the throes are shuddering. But this is life, not death ; and fold on fold The cramped and crumpled wings are soon unrolled, And, stretching wide their growing length, they gleam MORNING ON OLIVET In all the beauty of an artist's dream ! A few soft breathings of the buoyant air, To try their strength and for its flight prepare ; Then, spurning its dull cell with proud disdain, Soars skyward through the bright, unknown domain, In flight forever leaving far behind The prison-house where it lay dwarfed and blind. So the freed soul from gross, imprisoning clay, Clothed in God's beauty, deathless soars away. VII. JUDETH. Your picture is most beautiful ! If true, I would be glad. The moth described by you I, too, have seen ; and when I saw it soar — For I have watched them from my garden bower — So beautifully painted, through the sky, I oft have thought if I, too, thus could fly To search a life of sunshine and of gold, And leave forever here this sad and old Abode — But how I prate ! such cannot be, Except for you and moths ; 't is not for me. LAZARUS. Already stirs that soul within your breast In its fierce longings for a sweeter rest : Content not here, it gazes with an eye Which, as from book, reads in the bending sky Some mystery of which it hath a part, And, reading thus, appeals to hope and heart. JUDETH. What moves you, brother, now in speech so grave To talk of old things newly clad ? I crave You now unbend that face with brow austere, And, with such words as is my wont to hear From lips till now of levity the vent, Speak in sweet phrase and simple. LAZARUS. Sister, pent 6 THE STORY OF JUDETH In this proud heart Ambition had its rule, As you well know, and learning in such school But feeds the thirst for more, and thus consume The forces as the fruit absorbs the bloom Until the sweetness and the freshness born Of gentle blood were withered ere the morn Of manhood touched the day, as you may know, Who oft have watched and chid my dark'ning brow, And I grew cynic. VIII. And that was what best pleased Me as I thought of you as brother. How I teased You just to let me call you so, for I Have none, nor sister ! you might one supply, And Mary will the other. Life is lone To go through it still having neither one. You are my brother, are n't you ? Do not frown, As you have always done, and face me down. Ashamed, somehow I feel, when in your eye I read your strange, mysterious reply. Are you ashamed to call me sister ? But we our theme forget. No, Oh, no ; true, though, I did ask why you had so changed of late, But I did scarcely mean it, I so hate Philosophy, and those much harder names Of things unknowable. My pride but shames My ignorance, and it, in truth made plain, Shows but a heart as shallow as 't is vain. IX. LAZARUS. Fair Judeth, — sister, if that please you best, — The passions which stir in the human breast MORNING ON OLIVET Are deep, unsearchable ; but at the spring We drink of truth, where never withering Are flowers that bloom eternal on its course, Full of the life that bubbles from its source. He who drinks there thirsts not. Soul cleaves to Soul ; Like born of like, inseparable and whole Becomes, as fruit from mingled juices grown, The stock engrafted bearing fruit alone. And feeding on such fruits the grosser part, The mortal draws from the immortal heart Its own eternal Immortality. judeth. Your speech to you is plain, no doubt ; to me It is most vague and mystical. Whence brought This fine Philosophy which darkens thought ? Philosophy is truth and truth is light : They fail to see who lack discerning sight ; The light shines but within, the outward eye But night alone and darkness can descry ; You need the inner light, where through the soul The rays of truth their floods dilating roll. JUDETH. The Soul ! What mean you ? I, as truth, deny All source of vision save the mortal eye. True, to the mind some truths come vague and dim, Like wavering lights on the horizon's rim When morn is breaking. LAZARUS. Why these lights you see ? Why ? Sure the answer is most simple, " He Who runs may read." That faint and quivering ray Is the fore-promise of the coming day : Behind it speeds the swift and fiery Sun, And Night, uncovered, blushes hot and dun. THE STORY OF JUDETH X. LAZARUS. Because the sun is there, you see the light : Without its rays all is eternal night. Is not this true ? The twilight of the mind Is but the gleam of the great soul behind. That soul eternal, through the prison bars Sheds the soft lustre of the risen stars. JUDETH. I said Philosophy and I were twain; Its whys and wherefores are to me but vain And empty vaporings. I only know That, as to me things seem, they must be so. Philosophy, if I read right, should make all plain, Else Wisdom, save for few, to man is vain : Beyond that line lies dark and waste a land, If I see not, how can I understand ? There lies the darkness, and, outstretched, my hand Pierces its desert shadow, yet I feel No touch upon me. Ghostly somethings steal Still nearer to me, until from the night Drops down the curtain o'er unquickened sight ; And so the light shut close within me lies A portion of the darkness, and my eyes, As if they never saw, to me are blind, Save to bright pictures glowing in the mind. LAZARUS. Those pictures glow not, save from light within : The veil obscuring lies so sere and thin, The shadow's fall across our waking eyes Reveals the starlight in the Soul's clear skies. The stars are there ; it needs but keener power To trace their glowing at the noontide hour : So we, when life's day merges into gloom Where fall the shadows round the hastening tomb, With eyes earth-dimmed look forth with quickened sight " Lo ! It is morning, let there now be light ! " MORNING ON OLIVET XL JUDETH. My friend, — my brother, — tell me whence this change ? This wondrous wisdom, old and yet so strange, Your heart has filled and schooled your lips to teach With words prophetic and impassioned speech ? Has, in your absence, chanced it to your lot To visit him, — you know, I name him not, — Who by the Jordan's steep and rocky strand, And thence throughout its valley's sweeter land, Like prophet clad, Elias come again, Cries doleful warnings unto all the plain ? John Baptist ? Nay, him I have not yet seen, But travelled much the land where he has been ; And wonderful the tales one of him hears ! Wherever now this godly man appears Great multitudes the desert places fill, And follow him who leads them as he will, With eager lips hang on his slightest word, By fear or faith to deep conviction stirred. God's Word he preaches from the Prophet's page, And with its truths their waiting minds engage ; Their sins denouncing, scorns their pleasures dear, Their pride, self-love, race, creed, in terms severe : God's withering curse, a siroc's burning storm, Is heaped on them who serve him but in form ; While Love and Pity ever wait upon Those who to him in faith and trust have gone. So great his fame, to him the Pharisee, And with him came also the Sadducee, To learn what mighty power was his to draw The people to him ; and to learn the law, If such there be, by which he holds them thrall To his strange teaching warring with them all. Not that they hope'' to find in him aught good For them to share, or for the multitude ; But that his words against him they may use, Or turn his holy warnings to abuse, Then mock, revile, denounce him as a fraud 10 THE STORY OF JUDETH They will expose though all the world applaud ! And seeing these, their lives and hearts he reads, Weighs all through worth and judges each by creeds. With scorn ineffable, such as the soul Intensely pure must feel upon it roll, The battle on, nor thought of compromise, Thus to the vain, self-righteous throng he cries : " Ye viper's brood, of earth the vilest scum, Who warneth you to flee the wrath to come ? You must repent ; the axe lies at the root Of every tree that beareth not good fruit. Unto the Lord shall be the soul's desire ; The barren tree is cast into the fire. You Abraham for father boast ! If need, God unto him of stones shall raise up seed. Your ways are dark, your steps take hold on Hell ; Already burn with fires unquenchable Your shrivelled souls ! repent while yet you may ; For you the night of Death shall have no day : God's mercies cease when hearts will not receive ; Rejected pardon hopes not for reprieve." XII. This much I tell, yet not the half I heard, And telling this perhaps somewhat have erred. The spirit of the truth proclaimed pervades The very air : before his teaching fades All opposition, and both high and low, As penitents, for his baptizing bow. His word is mighty ; and throughout that land Come flocking multitudes on every hand, As if the wondrous teaching of the word The deepest depths of human feeling stirred ; And whispering lips, awe-touched and white with fear, Are asking, "Will Messiah soon appear ? " What meaneth it I know not, nor can well Divine its purport ; only thus I tell The story as I heard. JUDETH. Your words have strange MORNING ON OLIVET 11 And subtle power e'en over me. The range Of this unlettered dweller in the hills, Whose magic eloquence so moves and thrills The hearts of men, hath in it mystery That I would fain unveil. Not that in me Alone, dare I now hope, lies hid the power That may be equal to such task or hour ; My weakness left alone must ever fail ; God gave Sisera to the hand of Jael : When Truth and Error to the death contend, How meagre oft the means are to the end ! But in the right the weak are ever strong, While might's high citadel is sapped by Wrong. So runs the tale from synagogue oft read, How Jonah, when from duty he had fled, Escaped the seas, at last to Ninus came, Where he was sent God's vengeance to proclaim* — Nor messenger such message ever bore, — " Yet forty days, and Ninus is no more ! " And yet they heed that warning strange, and hear In it the voice of judgment speaking clear : God's pardoning favor they in faith implore, And Vengeance stalks regretful from the shore. I oft have wondered how, in form uncouth And maniac's cry, that people found the truth : Why should the wise, the great, the powerful flee Out from their sinful lives for such as he ? XIII. Because behind and in his footsteps trod The Messenger of an avenging God. No swifter fled proud Ahab's trembling steeds Where fast before the girded Prophet speeds, Than turned the heathen from his path accursed, Before the cloud destroying on him burst. JUDETH. So I believe of these ; but can it be That God in spirit speaks through such as he ? Is our estate to topple to its fall. And niighty things confounded be by small ? 12 THE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS. God ever was and always is the same: The sword which smites, and smites not in his name, Turns back the edge on him who wields, and dire The vengeance of his wrath's enkindled fire. So mercy shown, if not evoked through prayer, To him who shows hath blessing lean and spare. Now from that Book you also have heard read j That in the olden time the Prophet said, — The whole I may not give in word and phrase, But this their meaning and the truth conveys, — " Receive you him who cometh now to bless, The Voice that crieth in the wilderness ; Ye who the coming of the Lord Christ wait A highway build and make his pathway straight." He now is come ; the people hear and heed, And haste to him, forgetting caste and creed : He is the " Voice ! " The Nations hear the cry, And to his lifted standard soon will fly : The heavens proclaim the wonders of his word, In this the day spring of the coming Lord. XIV. You strangely move me ! and I now must see This Sage and sacred Herald : if it be Not now too much of you, my friend, to ask, In burdening you with this a further task, That you, as escort and also as guide, Lead us to where the Jordan's broadening tide Flows to that sad and death-distilling Sea With its sweet waters from the Galilee, Myself there to behold this mighty Seer, And from his lips his wondrous message hear ; While in his eyes I gaze, and gazing read If truth or falsehood father his strange creed. LAZARUS. Your wish is but my duty, so prepare At once the journey. I will have the care Of tents and meats, since now as locusts swarm The multitudes o'er all the land. MORNING ON OLIVET 13 JUDETH. No harm Will come to us from them ? LAZARUS. Nay, as the sheep Which graze upon yon hillside's rocky steep They are as kind and harmless. JUDETH. Then away ! I am impatient for the coming day, And the dusk shadows of the night will hate, Since through their laggard course I needs must wait. Martha and Mary, too, our way must share ; To them our purpose haste we to declare : Delay no longer, since more swift my feet Than yours to haste to joy, and far more fleet. A time we part ; and should we meet no more I will await you at the morning hour, Impatient of the bird's first matin call From out the fig-trees by the garden wall. Before the bird I shall awake you : come ! The day grows hot, so let us hasten home. XV. Now, while our friends the journey shall prepare, Which we, as guests unbidden, too shall share, We stop a moment and the time avail, While lag the actors in our waiting tale, To sketch in some bold strokes the scenes around, - Map out the plan, a time survey the ground Where soon the actors of a mighty Past Shall move and speak, as ever changing fast Scene upon scene, recurring act and deed : These, shifting oft, each other oft succeed ; And in them bearing fruits the world alone Shall reap in harvests as the years roll on. A thousand years thrice told have come and gone, 14 THE STORY OF JUDETH Before the lifting of this day's faint dawn, And through those years have voices far away Proclaimed to man the coming of this day. God's messengers, priest, prophet, sage, and seer, Whose feet have trod these sacred valleys here, Then, looking down the vistas lighted by The beams eternal from the throne on high, Have read the portent while the ages roll, As letters written on a flaming scroll, Far in the future, and proclaimed to man The wondrous story of God's waiting plan. XVI. That time to-day ; the land is Palestine ; Province, Judea, rich in figs and wine. Hard by to Bethany on Olivet The day has opened, and in shadows yet The sparkling dews of morn in beauty cling To pendant grasses, while the gay birds sing Their morning songs perched in the olive- trees, That, centuries gone, have wooed the fresh'ning breeze, Just as to-day they woo and whisper there In low, soft murmurings, to the morning fair. Their tale, though soft, is as the earth is, old ; Nor new the one they have this morning told, While hither strayed the two we now have seen, From the close city to the fresher green Of field and grove : the why we need not tell, Since youth is youth, in every age as well : And its one story, if but rightly told, Though new to-day, to-morrow has grown old ! XVII. The maid is fair, is young and very fair ! Her eyes their night with lambent torches share : Dusk cheeks that have the touch of shadow thrown Across the milky skin, to blushes blown In crimson tinge that on the surface lies, Nor stains the blooming flower of health it dyes. Like rippling shadows falling on the light, MORNING ON OLIVET 15 Flow down her locks as sable as the night, Save that across the shortened crests there gleams The golden tinge where daylight softly streams, Such as we see when twilight's ruddy glow Touches the sea where darkling ripples flow, Morn's promise shining on the topmost crest, While Night and Shadow swallow all the rest ! Her lips apart, so red they seem to bleed, Like cleft pomegranate o'er its gleaming seed, Show teeth that stand, two gates in pearly row Ajar, while speech and fragrant breath pass through ! Her dress — Oh, had I power from words to weave The hues in flower, the grace and folds conceive, — Throw out the lines, show, clinging as a kiss, The folds that drape her bosom in a bliss That makes them animate, yet fall away, And the white, heaving bosom half display, As in dim shadow touching but the light, Two peaks of snow half veiled in dusky night ! Thence flowing down the girdled waist caressed By golden cincture clasping silken vest, In flood of color like Niagara's flow, When o'er its sheen the sunlight casts its bow, Falls round her form, and, thus emblazoned, gleam In lights entrancing as a glowing dream, As bare arms fall like flashes of soft white With clasped hands hidden in its folds from sight. XVIII. And such is Judeth, save a hundred fold Her charms outrival all that can be told : We give but outlines, these but half expressed, Then let imagination paint the rest. Her years, these need we tell? In northern lands The fairest flower in blossom slow expands : 'Neath tropic suns, in garden and in bower Both rose and maiden hasten into flower ; No lingering dalliance in the smiles of Spring, No coy delays that chilling north-winds bring. Her sun to Eros speeds his gentle reign Witli flowers to please, and hearts to soothe his pain. 16 THE STORY OF JUDETU To us a child, there she the woman grown, In the full freshness of her beauty blown ; The mind maturing with the body's growth, Perfection's rare ideal lives in both. XIX. Companion of the hour, whose earnest speech Has less of love and more of truth to teach, Few words describe ; as few his story tell : Let these suffice the telling, ill or well. His name already is familiar grown ; His native home, Bethany's peaceful town. "Whatever needs be told the story through, His life in picture boldly brings to view : A wondrous life ! so little known, and yet That little still the world cannot forget ! A word describes him : as the arrow straight, With face as gentle as its look sedate ; Not large in stature, lithe in form and limb, "With eye whose lustre death alone can dim ; Blue as the sky, and liquid as 't is blue, Clear as the light, nor clearer than 't is true. His golden hair falls o'er his polished brow Like dash of sunshine crowning clouds of snow ; His yellow beard both short and curling grew, With cheek and lip still faintly blushing through. And such is Lazarus, as we see him here, Such, faintly pictured as he should appear. XX. By wealth not burdened nor made vain by fame, His means were ample and revered his name. Long lines of ancestors to him secure A blood as noble as its source is pure : Through these untarnished, on its currents run From sire unspotted to reproachless son. His kinsmen, too, sprung from this vigorous vine, Through many branches spread the honored line. Nor far remote, of kindred blood was she, The fact sufficing, they ignore degree, — MORNING ON OLIVET 17 Judeth, of tribe and house as his the same, But not in line direct, nor yet in name. Her father's station honored in the land With riches that both smiles and place command, A ruler in the synagogue was he, In faith, if not in sect, a Sadducee. She, at the home of Lazarus a guest Of his fair sisters, lingers now to rest, Whither from pent up city she has flown To this sweet home scarce second to her own. And finds she there home, life, and love so sweet, From cares oppressive such a blest retreat, That long she lingers, and, as day by day The moments pass, they sweeten still her stay ; Their hearts her home, their home a heaven to her, Where Love rules all and each is worshipper. XXI. Adown the Mount of Olives in retreat, They hasten now, nor stay their eager feet : We watch them yet a moment on their way, Bright in their hopes as is the glowing day, Forgetful of the moment and the scene, Sweet in its hills and valleys fair between, That crowd the vision with their lights and shades, Where gleams the sunlight or the shadow fades : These, through their mem'ries and their past sublime, Invite a moment of our grudging time, To paint with feeble hand, in words that fail, This land befitting its own marvellous tale ! XXII. Land, made sacred by the feet of him Who bore the Cross down through yon valley dim, In the far distance, where we still may see That sad, sweet mount of suffering, Calvary ! O Land of Promise ! wondrous in the fruit Of nectarine sweetness grown from bitter root ! The shadowy legends breathing still of thee In those old mystic books of prophecy, 18 THE STORY OF JUDETH Paint not thy landscapes nor thy bitter Sea ! Thy mounts of promise and thy plains of palm, Thy groves of almonds and thy vales of balm, With frankincense and myrrh each story told, As incense rise from out each page unrolled, Until thy name prefigures to the thought Something of all as we recall each spot ! Oh, for the tongue and pen once tipped with fire, Of him who swept with master hand the lyre, In those dim days when here with unshod feet Isaiah wandered through thy valleys sweet, With heart of song and lips of burning praise That give fresh glory to his name and days ! Or that could teach my stammering lips to sing In the sweet numbers of the Shepherd-king ! Then could I touch the strings with master hand, And, with a song that has a theme as grand, Sing of this land, its glory and its fame, Forgetting, as I sing, its abject shame ! XXIII. Upon Mount Olivet at morning stand, Beneath you, clothed in light, the Holy Land ; There paint in fancy that most lovely scene, As then to gazing eye it must have been, Imagination weaving in the flowers In blooming valleys and in fragrant bowers ; In groves of palm as fringed with almond-trees, In gardens giving sweets to every breeze ; The olive's dark'ning green on every hill, The figs and dates that half the gardens fill ; With stately cedars, fair as those upon The rocky heights of distant Lebanon, Set in the gorges, with their fragrant shade Refresh with verdure every opening glade. Along the winding Kidron's fitful stream, Where yet the Past with thousand memories teem Fair groves of trees like emerald islands sat In the sweet valley of Jehoshaphat, Made glad the weary souls who strayed among, As sorrowing hearts made glad by wine and song : MORNING ON OLIVET 19 Hard by this stream forgotten ne'er to be, Lies the fair garden of Gethsemane. Then sweeping out where the still Kidron glides, The eye beholds upon the green hillsides The white-walled villas gleaming on the day Like pictures hung beside the winding way : While thickly lie both hamlet small and town, Embowered in trees from whence the odors blown Make glad the hills, through valleys float along, While every breeze grows vocal with sweet song. XXIV. Beyond the valley, on the rising hills, Bursts on the view a sight that starts and thrills With joy, such as the exile's heart alone Can feel ; and which in hope long fed upon, When journeying from some far and distant home, At first in sight of the dear shrine has come, Beholds the glittering dome and blazing spires That catch the gleam of morn's enkindling fires, Where sits in queenly beauty, crowning them, The white-walled city of Jerusalem ! Now with his sight, if we, too, could but feel The fervor born of his unselfish zeal, How would the heart with deepening passion swell, The tongue inspired the wondrous story tell Of the great glory of these mighty men, Never to dawn upon this land again ! Yes ! as that pilgrim, we in faith behold The templed city with its shrine of gold, As bursting into view in morning's glow, Upon the hills it sits, with towers of snow, Tribute of love and kingly virtues rare As Pharsselus and Mariamne are : Tributes to God and to his love divine Where smokes his Altar in its sacred shrine, With spire and dome resplendent in the light Where tower and temple greet admiring sight, All dim and distant from the haze burst through In promised beauty of a nearer view, But give faint pictures to the sight revealed, 20 THE STORY OF JUDETH Where Fancy paints what distance has concealed. Give her free wings, and bare and desert sand Glows at her touch into a fairy land : Out of a mirage intangible and clear, The bastioned towers and portalled walls appear. Spire, minaret, and many a glittering shrine Leap into air and on the vision shine, And all that makes a city vast and grand Stand forth in perfect form on every hand : While grove and tree, lake, fountain, river, rill, Environed landscapes with their beauty fill, With spreading lawns, sweet meadows, twining bowers, Ambrosial fruits, and ever fragrant flowers, Soft-murmuring winds, low rippling of light waves, And scent of flowers with rustling of green leaves, Make perfect the delusion. Such the dream Of those who thirst beside some fancied stream, And pine for home, sweet fields, and restful smiles, Where the fierce desert with no dream beguiles. XXV. We shall not enter in since now our way Leads northward when shall lift the coming day : Another time we too may tread the courts Of its great Temple, view its famed resorts ; Then will we paint, if so it please our theme, Its marvellous beauties that about us gleam : But now we follow with the multitude, To seek the Jordan's swift and swelling flood, And him whose marvellous words have startled kings With the strange tidings to the world he brings, Presaging One who soon shall rear his throne Where ruined empires shall have toppled down : Of him will lessons learn, as by him told In words as rugged as their truth is bold ! XXVI. Nor we alone the winding valley thread By ways that danger ever fills with dread, Since our fair friend, with Lazarus as guide, MORNING ON OLIVET 21 Martha and Mary ; and with these, beside Their servants and the train a generous care Provides for need while they may sojourn there ; Companions all as we together go Through the rough valley down to Jericho. How fare we on there is no need to tell, Since to them all the journey ended well ; The petty trials in such rugged ways, The cares that vex, the danger that delays, Are incidents that, at the hearth or board, Food for the hour and gossip may afford ; But in the grander march life's journey through, Fail to attract or fade upon the view. Our story leads to graver days and themes, Where action lives, nor man, the actor, dreams ! Thither we speed as one on flying train Flashes afar through mountain-pass, o'er plain, Down valleys sweet as fairyland, on steeps So high the train along them seeming creeps ; By lakes whose waters quiver with white sails, Through meadows whose fresh verdure never fails ; By cities gathering in their homes and marts, A million eager feet and throbbing hearts ; O'er rivers whose deep arteries pulsing flow With the vast wealth which feeds the plain below : And yet, although the waking eye still sees, The hastening traveller heeds none of these. Beyond them all the goal of promise lies, To this his thought on wing still swifter flies ; Whate'er it may be, yet this one thing sought, The central figure of revolving thought, All else absorbing : thus by reason's laws The widening space to narrow limit draws ; By that strange magic of the mind's swift power In one bold step we stride from shore to shore, Until by thought concentrate we efface In the mind's vision all external space. So speeds our wanderer hastening from the sea, The rocks behind him and the billows free, Yet stretching out lie weary leagues of land 'Twixt him and home kept by a loving hand ; The miles but measure out the lagging hours, 22 THE STORY OF JUDETH As their perfume the presence tells of flowers ; A continent, with all its scenes sublime, Becomes to him a moving point of time To mark the space where fails the ocean's foam, And the sweet shimmer of his rising home : And, closed the measure of a continent, He dreams beside his hearth in sweet content ! So we this journey make, forgetting space, As we rush forward in its morning chase. Our thoughts fixed on the goal to which we tend, Press the swift course until we reach the end. XXVII. A moment we might stop in brief delay, As one who would an unknown sea survey, To show his voyageurs, ere they trust the wave, The ports of refuge and the rocks they brave ; "What chart he trusts, what kind his bark and sail, "Wherein he hopes success, and where may fail ; How he discovery made of what he knows ; How much is proof, how much they must suppose ; So they, contented, trust their chosen guide, And, having faith, to him leave all beside ; Nor grow the dangers less, the seas less wide ! That might be well where all have equal rule, The pleasant folly of communist's school ; But who successful sails in unknown seas Gives not his thoughts e'en to the whispering breeze, But in his breast he hides both chart and plan, Nor makes a confidant of any man ; Knowing that, if successful, ample praise Shall well repay for all unseen delays, And that full time enough there is for all Their curses, if misfortune should befall. And thus shall we go on the journey through, With secret chart the devious way pursue, Buoyed by the hope that when we anchor cast, Some cheers mav welcome us from shore at last. AT THE JORDAN 23 CANTO SECOND. AT THE JORDAN. JUDETH. How beautiful the morning ! and how sweet The breath from the calm waters ! At the feet Of the low hills lie the still waves, and glass The heads of the near mountains. As they pass, I see reflected in its mirrored breast Cloud-shadows. On Mount Nebo's topmost crest The glowing Dawn has fixed her torch of day, And the pierced shadows swiftly flee away ! Come hither, Mary ! Did you call ? In awe I heard your rhapsody as I, too, saw Through the drawn curtains peep the coming Dawn ; So I with haste my outer robe threw on To join you here. How sweet the morning lies Half-waking in the valley ! Drowsy eyes But catch the glow, else in soft sleep lose all The day in losing this. I straight would call To join us here Lazarus and Martha. II. List! Now gently stealing through the dusky mist On the hushed breath of morn I hear a song Like liquid flow of waters float along, From where yon tents lie darkly on the beach ; Its rising notes in trembling whispers reach The eager ear just as from out the gloom The gray tents into sight now slowly come, As lift the mists above them. Hark ! another, 24 THE STORY OF JUDETH And still another singer joins. Your brother, And Martha too, if she is risen, call And let us to the tents now hasten. All The valley now grows vocal with the song, And loud and full the chorus sweeps along, Like some swift stream chafing in barriers pent, Finding in crevice small a meagre vent. Runs first a silver thread scarce seen, then gray With sand and earth, as wears the mole away : Then gathering force, as widens still the breach, The growing floods the deep foundations reach, Then fiercer struggling in its hateful thrall, Its stooping shoulders set against the wall ; A sturdy Sampson, laughing thus to bear The puny battlements of stormy war On his broad back, hurls down the wall, and wide The waste of waters flows on every side ; While hollow echoes gathering through the plain, The softened thunders murmur back again : So sweeps the flood of music all before, And echoing whispers run from shore to shore. And have you called them ? III. MABY. Ay, and they are here. What charming sound is this strikes on my ear ? Ah, Judeth ! pardon, pray, my thoughtless mood, The morning salutation due. JUDETH. I should Not e'en have noticed it, had not your speech Called back my wandering mind. I pray you teach To me the mystery of forgetful n ess. AT THE JORDAN 25 JUDETH. I will. Ah ! here comes sister Martha, prudent still ; She thinks of the damp shadows and raw air, And brings our cloaks with her. Hail, Martha ! fair And glowing as the morning. IV. MARTHA. Still my care, My sweet heart's sister, must be yet of thee ; If thou wouldst more than this still hope to be, Throw this about you ; Mary, this for you ; Without my care what would you children do ? LAZARUS. Love you the same ; I know we could no more ; For Love, in loving you, himself grows poor ! Judeth,"you have not answered me. JUDETH. I will. The answer is around you. Plain and hill, Hark, how they echo with those wondrous strains ! Do you not hear the singing ? Yonder plains Are vocal with the grandest melody That ever swept its strains o'er land or sea. Hark, how from yonder tents now sweetly rise The incense wrought of songs of Paradise ! — Not yours but mine, — the Paradise I know Where joy fills life unto its overflow. Can we not go to them ? You must have care, There 's fever lurking in this murky air ; Mayhap unguarded in those tents there be Contagion rife or bloated leprosy. Ah, listen to their songs ! One scarce believes The heart which sings so sweetly ever grieves ! And this being so, that loathsome, venomed stain 26 THE STORY OF JUDETH Taints not this life, nor poisons healthful vein With mortal malady. The song, so sweet That Echo fain would linger to repeat, Grows sweeter as the morning from the peaks Falls glancing down the hills in golden streaks, And rosy Day comes dancing on the sea, And floods the land from Shur to Galilee. Let us go thither. JUDETH. Good, my sister fair ; Let us now boldly to those tents repair. LAZARUS. How beautiful the scenes around us ! Night Lay thick and sodden on the aching sight When we, uncertain, down the winding steep Approached our tents. We could do nought but creep To our inviting couches kindly spread, To slumber there upon a dreamless bed. JUDETH. Dreamless ? Such dreams I never had as came About my couch last night ! MARY. Hush ! do not name Them ere we breakfast, else some evil thought Corrupt, and of it something bad be wrought. JUDETH. Not of my dreams ; for they were all of you And yours, too marvellous e'er to come true : And now I see — LAZARUS. Stay ! let the telling go, And look upon this scene ! No dream is now Sealing to earthly scenes our startled eyes, Yet never dream so beautiful ! Here lies The waveless sea, golden in coming light Where flash the morning rays. The mountain's height AT THE JORDAN 27 Flames as on fire ; the skies, a grayish blue, Melt into shadow to the west, and through The valley breathes the flower-sweet laden wind, Filling the white sails of the boats that bind The Jordan's shores. The woods with odorous balm Invite to its soft shades ; the groves of palm, Green-tinted, wave aloft their feathery plumes ; Along the way the oleander blooms, Pomegranates ripen, and the olive's bough With burdened wealth of dusky fruit droops low. Amid this glowing beauty, wrought by One By whose right hand all things done are well done, Lie gleaming in the softened morning light, Amid the green, a field of varied white, Where tented wait on one man's coming feet The pilgrims of all lands. Their song so sweet Its notes have drawn us with no will to stay, In captive bonds that lead our feet astray. Shall we go further ? MAKY. Oh, do ! And why wait Our feet midway the road ? Now broad and straight The way lies smooth before us : dull the ear The songs they now are singing cannot hear. JTJDETH. Yes, nearer still let us approach the throng : Hark ! from the grove beside the way, the song Rings out, and with a note so sweet and clear, Each word, if we but listen, we may hear — Stay ! let us catch the song. VI. LAZARUS. I never heard Those words before. How richly strain and word Melt into each, so soulful yet so calm ! And yet that sung is neither song nor psalm. MAKY. Be still and listen ! Now I catch the theme ; 28 TEE STORY OF JUDETH A heart's hope woven with Judea's dream. Messiah 's coming, King of kings to reign, Is the deep burden of the tender strain. vir. THE HYMN. Hear, Adonai ! perfect in thy grace, Our song in prayer ; Thy day of promise to thy chosen race This day declare. Send Him, the Prince of Peace, the Conqueror, To us who wait ; Send with thy conquering hosts in holy war To his estate. Bound long in chains, thy chosen seed remained As captives led ; The Holy City waste, thy house profaned, Thy prophets fled : Yet thou didst hear and answer in the past Thy children's prayer : Thy prophets have foretold our day at last, That day declare ! We watch the morning breaking through the chains Of dusky night : Behold, the sun is risen ! o'er the plains Sweeps in the light. Come quickly, O Deliverer ! in thy power, Thy people wait : We run to bring thee, gracious Prince, this hour, To thy estate. The messenger proclaims the day at hand Deliverance brings, With wondrous grace, unto thy chosen land, Great King of kings '. Rise, rise, and sing ! the day is sweet, the air A wondrous song Of joy breathes to our hearts. O soul, prepare : It won't be long ! AT THE JORDAN 29 We see him on the mountain in the light That golden falls ; We hear him in the winds that soothe the night With Zephyrs' calls. He comes, he comes ! His feet are on the hills Like purple Dawn ! His glorious presence all the morning fills, And doubt is gone. VIII. JUDETH. How strange that song, if song it may be called, That hath both prayer and praise in it ! Appalled Before that spirit breathing in those hearts Our masters well might stand : the fears and starts A tyrant feels, finds in them ample food, With subjects hopeful and in such a mood. This I can understand, for in my home Lurk ail fierce hatreds for the tyrant Rome. I have imbibed them, — fed on them perforce, Child though I am and woman. This of course ; But there is something more than this that makes Me thrill with feeling undefined, that wakes Within my heart a strange, new sense of power Born of their hope that resteth on this hour, As if the day itself were harbinger Of hope fulfilled, which scarce the hours defer. What think you, sister Martha ? I ? No thought Have I. On me so wonderful hath wrought The feeling of this hour, that now I stand In awe expecting — I know not what ! IX. And I feel — I ought not say it, yet must speak — I from my fast so long am growing weak. 30 THE STORY OF JUDETH MARTHA. Why, what a speech ! And yet 't is ever so : Before the appetite the grandest soul must bow Or famish utterly ; and she, poor child, Guiltless of such, with hunger now is wild. MARY. Why, Martha ! Sayest thy sister hath no soul ? Well, maybe not : a body hath she whole And healthy ; and hunger sings a song With tongue more clamorous than yonder throng, — And it hath charmed me, too. JUDETH. And since you speak Of things so earthly, I with spirit meek Confess the selfsame needs. MARTHA. Then let us haste ; The butler waits, and waiting viands waste When long prepared, while the rich flavors fail ; And such not eaten in their time grow stale. Our brother Lazarus, where is he ? JUDETH. See! He wanders on as if unconsciously Some power was drawing him within the charmed And magic circle of its sway. Disarmed Of fear, it seems, he passes onward still, A willing follower of some hidden will, — MARTHA. And, dreaming in forgetfulness, he leaves Us here alone, the prey to fear and — thieves. How stupid in him ! I will call him back. X. MARY. Nay, Martha, let him go : a plain, smooth track AT THE JORDAN 31 Lies now the way behind us, and the sun Has swept the shadows from the plain. No one Dare interrupt us on the way — and then I am so hungry ! judeth. I will join him : when It suits his mood we will return. Your taste I 'm sure I do not covet. On such waste I do not care to feed, while dainty fish, The tender lamb, lush dates and figs, — the wish Outdone in them, — pomegranates ripe and red, With generous grapes, I now prefer instead. But then you have your choice. MARTHA. So far before Is he, you cannot join in safety ; more, The danger still will follow you along In the low rabble of that gathering throng, Then you will faint from hunger. JUDETH. Martha, dear, Go to your tent, and of me have no fear ; Nor wait for us, we will return full soon : The morning speeds apace, and brings the sultry noon. XI. Then let us haste. I famish in the thought ; The thirst burns fiercest while the spring is sought. When you grow tired of your airy feast, Return to us ; the crumbs will wait, at least. JUDETH. Thank you, I will remember. Lazarus ! Wait, ho ! my Lazarus ! He never thus Has been so deaf when I have called him. Hear ! 32 THE STORY OF JUDETH 'T is Judeth calls. He heeds not, and I fear The looks of those who gather by the way. And yet he said the sheep which yonder stray Upon the hillsides more were to be feared Than these swart men with shaggy locks and beard. I will go forward. Adonai, hear Thy child ! Protecting, answer now her prayer. XII. They to their tents return, while Judeth still Speeds on, her fear contending with her will, Yet gaining as she goes upon the pace Of Lazarus, whom all around delays. Her courage rises as she, drawing near, Finds in his presence solace for her fear. Let us with them, and view the graphic scene, In other lands than this could not have been. XIII. The scene is grand, if that be grand which awes And in the beauty of its wildness draws The soul entranced, with features not severe, But in its rugged outlines soft and clear ; A harmony in all swells through the whole, And with its silent music floods the soul ! Near by the Jordan with its winding stream Brings down its floods from where the blue waves gleam On fair Tiberias' broad but placid sea, And pours it babbling in its purity Down the fair valley, lengthening on the view Here in the plain, there cleaving valleys through, Until its flood, first limpid as a beam Ethereal, runs a pale and milky stream Into the Dead, salt Sea, whose thirsty shores Drink the cool tide which down its parched throat pours ; But, like the Grave which swallows all the earth, No living stream from its dark flood springs forth ! AT TEE JORDAN 33 XIV. The Sea ! What can we sing of sky and flood ? Though most familiar, yet least understood : The face of each a loved and cherished friend Whose smiles in blessing ever on us bend ; Whose light the joy, whose shadow still the cheer, To hearts that love, and, trusting, do not fear. Each has its clouds : reflected in the one The face the other shows when looked upon ; As cloud the brows of some ill-mated pair With dark'ning frowns which they together wear. When storms impend, the skies with thunders groan, The troubled seas repeat in hollow moan ; The tempests burst, the ragged whirlwinds sweep The surging bosom of the boiling deep ; While cloud to billow stoops, and wave to cloud Lifts high its foaming crest, as hoarse and loud The surges beat upon the sounding shore, And drown the babel of the thunder's roar. And yet the Sea is kind, the Sky is sweet ; With thousand smiles they each the other greet ; While changing oft to each their varying mien, In every phase new beauty still is seen, As when sea smiles to sky and sky to sea In the full glow of morn's sweet witchery, As we, the favored of that greeting, stand On the green bosom of the glowing land, To catch the radiance of the golden hour, And feel the mystic presence of that power Which speaks from out the bosom of the flood Of beatific splendor, " It is good." He made both sea and land, and spread the arch Above them in Creation's wondrous march ; He wrote his promise in the rainbow's form, And as a garland with it crowned the storm, Not as the victor, but as subject still To the stern mandates of his ruling Avill : So with his chains he bound the liquid sea Which as to man flows fetterless and free, Yet at the whisper of his slightest breath The tempest's fury sinks to sighs of death ! 34 TEE STORY OF JUDETH As on the Galilee his gentle word Of " Peace ! be still ! " the raging tempest heard, And the hoarse waves, in murmurs low and sweet, Crawled to the shore and kissed his naked feet ! XV. But we forget ; and as we linger here The voice of Judeth reaches Lazarus' ear, And, turning quickly at the pleasing sound, He stops, beholds inquiring faces round That gaze on him in wonder born of fear, Wrought in with hope and awe. Again and near Her voice he hears, and then upon his view Appears the form of Judeth struggling through The closing throng which press her round, and stay Her further progress in the narrow way ; Quick turn his feet, and soon his sturdy arm The crowd holds back to save the maid from harm. XVI. " 'T is he ! " he hears in passing. " No, 't is not ! " Is answered back in Hebrew ! "Is forgot The reading of the Word ? ' A prince ' it said." " True, such indeed the reading ; he instead Is neither prince nor princely born." Behind, In his mad haste the struggling girl to find, He left dispute and disputants, and ran, If such the pace which crowds from man to man, Until at last he gained fair Judeth's side ; She, scarcely seen, was struggling in the tide — A rushing stream of human life — which poured Its flood around him in a motley horde, Drawn from all sides by cries, such as the word Of him just spoken, now on all sides heard, As others catch it up and send it on, Wrong from the first, increasing still has gone, Until the whispered guess a fact assumes And this to them the truth its self becomes. And thus in faith the tented city heard With bated breath the hope-confirming word, AT THE JORDAN 35 That lie the promised had indeed now come, For whom hearts open stood to give him room, In joy awaiting to confirm the plan When Truth exulting cries, " Behold the Man ! " XVII. " Oh, save me, Lazarus ! " was Judeth's cry, With panting breath, when she beheld him nigh ; " The horde would trample me ! Are these the sheep You boasted of ? Yon sea now purpling deep Would swallow me with not more greedy maw Were I to trust it without bark. Pray draw Me from this vortex of contending life." Then one approaching said, " Art thou not wife To him ? " pointing to Lazarus. " Nay, nay ! But what is that to you ? I need not say I am a woman, since thou hast thine eyes ; Should I be trodden if ye do despise ? " Rebuked by words so bold, he backward pressed, Apace, and forced with him all of the rest. The action seen, and backward motion felt, Like snow at touch of flame they crumbling melt Around and from the two, and leave them there A widening circle in the tented square. XVIII. As some strange beast by daring hunter caught Which is for show to rustic village brought, With muzzled snout and claws securely trimmed, Still fierce of front, for battle strongly limbed ; Unknown his nature while displayed his power, His paws may grapple and his fangs devour ; With restless pace he runs his shortened round About the stake to which securely bound ; Soon all the village hastening forth appears, From gray-haired patriarch to the least in years ; These crowd the circle which the monster's chain Makes safe while yet its bonds his rage restrain ; And there they watch in prudent distance safe, Fly when he growls and when at rest they chafe ; 36 THE STORY OF JUDETH Crowd closer in when at the stake he lies, And when he lifts his head retreat with cries, — So closely gather at the circling line, Whose human walls our captive friends confine, This motley throng, uncertain if they dare Approach these beings, both their fear and care, Lest from them leap, omnipotent in power, A sword to smite, or flame that will devour ; Such as old Egypt's pride smote down, and laid In dust her first-born by destroying blade ; Or as the fire which went out from the Lord And Nahab and Abihu both devoured. Nor was the fear alone to those without, Our friends within were filled with dread and doubt ; While the strong heart of Lazarus misgave Him, yet his look was passionless but grave ; For Judeth, weak and cowering by his side, Aroused his pity, manhood, and his pride. Whate'er, were he encompassed thus alone, In rashness or in zeal he might have done, With her beside him, it deserved his care To temporize ; when that should fail, then dare The bravest deeds, else better wrongs endure So that the end her safety may secure. XIX. She, trusting him, her woman's subtile skill, She plied to read their temper and their will, Since they the best are armed to meet the foe Who both their strength and purpose fully know. Let us with them the puzzling scene, too, scan, And read as books their faces, man by man. Around the circle, reading face by face, No passion can we in one visage trace ; A curious study here ! A Raphael's hand Might faintly trace on canvas and command Some truth in action, passive there, to tell No living pen could hope to do so well ; And yet for him there is a point his skill, If he but touch, his touch would mar it still, Because it is not in the grasp of men AT THE JORDAN 37 To paint with brush, delineate with pen, That wondrous power, beyond the grasp of art, Which through each single mind moves separate heart, And writes its message there, to speak through eyes From which the winged thought to bear it flies, E'en as the subtile fluid on the wire Flashes our thoughts abroad in written fire, While he whose hand may give the message wing Can never touch the fount from which they spring ! XX. Here Jews we see, Samaria's servile type, For intrigue ready and for treason ripe ; Yet, servile still, his bearded face declares Whate'er his fortune little hope he shares ; While from his eye the changing, fitful gleam Shows he, in action even, still must dream ! Beside him, dark as night the burning eye, Which shows fierce fires enkindled deeper lie, Stands the swart Arab, child of desert lands, Drawn hither from his barren, trackless sands, Among the crowded tents finds ample field Where his shrewd arts their golden harvests yield, And hopes, in ev'ry crowd as this one made, Some chance to ply for gain his crafty trade. The Ethiop next, whose ebon face betrays The focussed burning of the tropic rays, Unlike his sun, whose blistering vapors burn To living flame and blackened coal in turn, His ardent heart with tender love aglow, An odorous garden where all choice flowers grow ; He, loving man because of man, but sees In all things flowers to strew the paths of peace. The Priest, the Levite, — chosen of the Lord To guard his kingdom with a flaming sword Drawn for the Law, — still with their greedy eyes Seek place and power, and all things else despise ; Their gain God's gain, and as they teach they mouse Until their zeal has eaten up his house, — These, too, are here to seek if from the hour They may not add new lustre to their power. 38 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXI. Then comes the Greek, we know him by his face, A careworn dreamer of a glorious race ; The name is all : a mystic memory lies Pale in the shadow of his soulless eyes ; Platonic now the fires, if not the love, Which feeling hearts unutterably move ; Gone now forever all that was his own In glory, while his fame to shadow grown. Next him the Roman soldier, iron- browed, With breast as heartless as his soul is proud ; Who, in things present, past, and yet to come, Seeks still to add all glories unto Rome, Whose darkling splendor now is toppling down Since civic wreaths are turned to Caesar's crown. Here Sadducee and Pharisee in smiles, Each thinking of himself, himself beguiles With the fond dream that God in special care Waits with bowed ear alone to hear his prayer ! The blind might feel upon his smiling face His sanctified and self-asserting grace, While in his heart lies hatred black and deep, In couchant rest, but never known to sleep : The tiger leashed, defiant, or at bay, Than he is not more eager for its prey ! XXII. Filled in with these and such as these, between, Are hundreds more with varying aspects seen, And on each face is writ with constant change, In characters distinct as they are strange, A wondrous sign — a portent — one may read, And, though he understand not, still should heed ; For in it hope and faith in truth divine Glowed in each feature, gleamed in every line, Until the speaking countenance there shone, Angelic, save it lacked the aureole crown. These were of those who, hearing truth, believe, Their faith from John, as children now receive ; And seeing Lazarus, with hungering souls AT THE JORDAN 39 Their faith in him their eager hope extols. They rush to him, believing now they see In him a humble son of Bethany, Their Lord and King, and ready are to greet Emanuel, and worship at his feet : So great their zeal for their expectant Lord, So large the place they would to him accord ; Yet, when at last he cometh to his own, His crown is thorns, a cross his earthly throne ! And these, who crowd in their expectant zeal, Will let the world from them his kingdom steal, Their Prince will crucify, then sit them down And dream for ages of a vanished crown ! XXIIL Judeth and Lazarus, when first they saw The narrowing circle around them draw, Were filled with fear lest violence towards them Had raised a flood they had not power to stem. But watching there the faces as they gleamed In the bright sunshine which about them streamed, They read them, and upon their pages saw, Though much of passion, more of doubt and awe ; But nothing they should fear, save that a brand Might yet be thrown by some mischievous hand Among these masses, now so cold and tame, And change the whole to a devouring flame Whose withering breath, which once against them blown, Would blast like bolt from hand Eternal thrown ! XXIV. Judeth perplexed to Lazarus speaking turns : " What mean they, Lazarus ? My eye discerns No sign of anger in their watchful eyes, But more of wonder, — questioning surprise, As if we were to them of race so strange, They knew not if to fear or worship." Change 40 THE STORY OF JUDETH But just one thought in one o'erruling mind And then this crowd, now peaceful, mad and blind Will rage about us like that peaceful sea When storms sweep o'er the plains of Galilee ; So we must hold our peace. JUDETH. I understand : But yet 't is hard to wait, — one's self-command At such an hour in such a state as this. LAZARUS. One word missaid, one little step amiss, And scarce a Legion of that Roman brood Can save us. Soon we would be fire and food For this devouring horde ; so patience, all In God's good time ends in the best. JUDETH. Then call We on Him ! Adonai hear ! Thy hand Stretch forth and save us of thy chosen land ! Thou art our strength ; on thee must we rely In our great need, then pass us now not by ! LAZARUS. Judeth, your prayer so sweet to me, to him A holy incense ! And my faith, though dim And clouded, takes fast hold on it to rise With it and upward cleave the cloudless skies, And lay it at his feet. XXV. JUDETH. 'T is all I have. A woman prays in danger, man is brave ; And yet both lean upon the arm of God ! Yes, both ; and to escape his chastening rod. But hark ! What sound is that ? It swiftly nears Where we are standing ; and to my quick ears AT THE JORDAN 41 It seems a rising song. Ah, see ! a wave Runs o'er this throng, and there is power to save Us by this new diversion. Now the ring, Like mountain snows at breath of coming spring, Melts at the touch of this new power, and flows Around and from us. Now, if these were foes, They would o'erwhelm or bear us with the tide. Since we are free, why longer here abide ? Let 's to our tents, and, when well rested, tell What here to us so wonderfully befell. JUDETH. They will believe us trifling. How strange All seems ! How wonderfully swift the change ! A moment past, we were hemmed in — a prayer — The danger flees and leaves us free as air ! These are indeed strange people. LAZARUS. And yet kind. But let us haste and leave these tents behind. Ah, here they come again, a surging throng, But now with laughing faces ! Praise and song Following — What is this which greets my sight, That, were I now alone, my soul would fright With a chill horror ? Is it man or beast, — I cannot tell which one it favors least, — Or hermit clad in skins ? Or can it be John Baptist? Yes, hVis, it must be he ! It is most wonderful that in such guise The people hearken to him : wherein lies His power to wield and sway them as he will, To raise the tempest or the storm to still ? What fails to please too often we despise, And virtue weigh alone with purblind eyes. The leathern girdle and the cloak of hair Oft make us scorn the sage enforced to wear ; The knotted staff, the stay of brawny hands Our jeering laughter and contempt commands ; While matted beard and locks of tangled gray Are food for scoffers loitering by the way : And yet, beneath all these, unconscious lie 42 THE STORY OF JUDETH The wondrous attributes of Deity ! Not John the Baptist, nor the Prophets even, Have the sole gifts, though much to them is given ; But man, the living image in the clod, A temple is for the indwelling God ! But why should I stand talking, and delay Our course, while he is coming on this way ? Let us go forth to meet them. JUDETH. I 'm content, Since towards our tents our footsteps will be bent. XXVI. They hasten on ; and, strange it may appear, Unnoticed by the throng they now draw near, Which scarce a moment past had held them thrall, Hemmed in and pent within that human wall, The centre drawn of all their staring eyes Which now see not, or seeing but despise ; Since they must see the passion which inflamed Their folly then, is that which now has tamed. But there is one, the centre of them all, With bearded face and stature straight and tall, Locks long and flowing, eyes of dusky night, Coarse-robed in camel's hair of dingy white, With leather girt, and staff a riven bough. He sees and steadfast looks upon them now With eyes, to them, a strangely moving power, Which, as they gaze, the very thought devour ; And yet so kindly in their gentle glow, They seem with tears just ready to o'erflow. Before him mute and motionless they stand With feet that seem fast-rooted to the sand, And eyes downcast, they wait his passing by, And, waiting thus, they feel him drawing nigh, Until his touch the shrinking Lazarus thrills, With ecstasy his quivering being fills To hush of thought, as sweetly he doth say, " Blessed art thou to live in this blest day, To have the love of the Eternal Son Thy heritage ; " and saying this, passed on. AT THE JORDAN 43 XXVII. With him the crowd which followed after goes, Nor heed they, further than a glance allows, Surprised, it may be, if they saw and heard The touch he gave and the low-spoken word. And so absorbed in him, who in his train Leads them still further out along the plain. Our friends they leave forsaken in the way, Their senses to regain as best they may, Not as Lot's wife, but like her fixed by awe At the strange being they both heard and saw ! A moment thus, then Judeth, speaking first, Said softly, " Lazarus, I pray you burst This spell which is upon you ! That strange man Hath power phenomenal : there may be plan And method in his craft, yet his kind eye And gentle speech the thought of it deny." LAZAKTTS. My Judeth, were you speaking ? Your words seem The ghostly whisperings of a troubled dream ! Did not some hand — I thought I felt a touch — Upon my arm with pressure overmuch Stay me a time ? JUDETH. Yes, gently as a child. And then I heard a voice speak low and mild, Strange words to me, remembering ev'ry one, Are without meaning ; that from me has flown. XXVIII. The words I heard — and they were sweet as wine From Eschol's vintage pressed, and yours, not mine, The blessing — and the lips which thus bestowed Spake as the oracle inspired of God. 44 THE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS. John Baptist ? Ah, I know and feel 't is he ! None other hath such power. And he to me The blessing gave ? Ah, now I understand The words of promise and the loving hand ! Where has he gone, that we may follow him, To learn the fulness of this joy, but dim Portrayed in his prophetic speech ? JUDETH. The day Grows on apace ; we should no longer stay ; Your sisters grow impatient. LAZARUS. True, and we Must now return to them : but first to see Whither the Prophet goes. Yes, there they go Down where the Jordan in its peaceful flow Winds through the narrow plain. And see ! adown The roads which lead from each surrounding town The gathering people fill, and plain beyond ; While close about the Seer, wondering or fond, They follow him where'er he leadeth. Haste We to our tents, and there a little taste Of broken meats, which you now sorely need, Then, with our sisters, after we will speed. XXIX. My wants can wait, nor is it meet we heed These temporal things, when mightier await To feed the hungry mind. Yet growing late The hour, and I am flesh and blood, — gross flesh That ev'ry day must be supplied afresh ; And mortal, too, and that in every part, And loving this mortality — Why start ? You know my creed ; it teaches this one truth, As to mankind, there can be but one youth ; That ended, then to age we stooping go, In sorrow wrapped, like sackcloth worn in woe, AT THE JORDAN 45 To greet the grave, and then — you answer, " Blest." Yes, in its dreamless, everlasting rest ! I moralist — philosopher — have grown ? Thus far the truth of the grave charge I own, And have grown wise to this extent, I find The foolish ones leave happiness behind, To chase a shadow for its emptiness — For us to so unfed would scarce be less. XXX. While thus, she talking, towards the waiting tent Their hastening steps along the way were bent, He, answering not, but kindly on her smiled, Pleased with her speech as prattle of a child : For little else he heard, save the sweet flow Of words unmeaning, in their cadence low, Since through his mind, repeated often, ran Those mystic words from that mysterious man ; Their hidden meaning, struggling to make plain, Flashed through his mind and then grew dark again. Like some fair landscape to the gazing eye, Hung darkly curtained by a sable sky, On which the lightning's fitful flashes burn As failing lamps, now bright now dim in turn, But nought revealing of the lovely scene, Save mingled hues and misty depths between, With never flower, or vale, or spreading tree, Distinct or clear in night's obscurity, So flashed his thought through mind's beclouded night, While truth grew darkened in the feeble light. XXXI. Debating this with his own thought, while she, Unanswered, drops into a reverie, In silence thus the tents approaching, they With loitering steps pursue their silent way, Until midway the anxious sisters meet Them in return, and haste their tardy feet With urgent protest, question, and rebuke. If not in word, still in both voice and look, 46 THE STORY OF JUDETH For their delay, of which the soaring sun Tells off in hours to midday almost run. Now they on either side have grasped an arm, And thus returning hear their tale. Alarm, Then wonder, fills their throbbing hearts to hear The story as 't is told. So they draw near The restful tents, the story done, with eyes Cast down, and faces on which sits surprise Mute in each troubled look. A time before Their waiting tents that stand with open door They pause, uncertain of their further course, It may be, else from habit's silent force, And then they enter, each with glances turned Toward the near Jordan, with a look that yearned For the fair stream, and him whose magic power Was the great wonder of the passing hour. Rest we a time with them ; the way is long, And he who follows to the end must needs be strong. CANTO THIRD. ECCE HOMO! Why are we born so weak ? Why is the hand So short that would lay hold on Truth ? The grand Eternal thoughts of the All-knowing mind Leave us in darkness : human eyes grow blind Before his truth, which is the living light, And with it still before, we grope in night. Why are our ears so deaf they cannot hear The wondrous message told for ev'ry ear ? Two thousand years the world has heard it told, Yet it is ever new while growing old. New empires from the dust of old have sprung, Their histories known and read in ev'ry tongue : These in their fall give place to kingdoms new, And these their course of empire still pursue. Each race, each nation, passing o'er the stage, ECCE HOMO 47 Is known and read in its succeeding age. Their peoples born, live, labor, hope, believe, Give as they have, and where they lack receive ; Their creeds, their gods, their rites of mystic faith, Move ever on a plain and beaten path The world can follow, reading, as it runs, The deepest lessons of its mighty ones. But God's bold writing on the staring wall Has mysteries the gaping world appall. II. Six thousand years man stands beneath the sky, And reads its ever-broad'ning mystery ; And scarce a page it takes the whole to tell Of his large wisdom learned thus none too well ! One pen-stroke from His hand, the lettered heaven In written fires its history has given ! His fingers touch the mysteries of Time, The scroll unrolls a history sublime ! At his command the shrouding curtains fall, And sun and stars are hid alike from all. Yet man in his great wisdom, with a nod, Denies these truths and cries, " There is no God ! " Then gasps for his spent breath just snatched away, His mighty wisdom turned to noisome clay. And yet the world moves on without his hand To wheel the stars, their courses to command. A little dust dropped on the poising scale To turn the balance here cannot prevail : The hand which weighs the circling worlds heeds not Such atom falling on neglected spot, When counting in its worlds its million spheres, As here and there a planet disappears, Or, blazing through a thousand centuries, runs The wasting conflagrations of his suns. And yet how wonderful Salvation's theme ! Exceeding wild Imagination's dream, That he, this God, will mortal man still own, Stoop tenderly, and from his reigning throne Lift up this creature from a world of night, To reign with him and shine in endless light ! 48 THE STORY OF JUDETB Not this alone the mystery of his plan By which is brought salvation unto man : This God eternal sends his Son to bear Our sin and shame, and all our griefs to share — E'en die for us ; yet those who saw him die, Both God who sent him and his Son deny ! Why hangs suspended still the avenging bolt To smite a world grown daring in revolt ? Is Mercy endless in its saving grace To spare eternally the human race ? Bought at such price, his patient love denies To Justice even, its own sacrifice ; Denies that God whose mercies yet endure, Through which alone we rebels are secure ! III. Such thoughts awake when startling visions rise From out the Past and glow before our eyes, Where, from these scenes, as from illumined page, We read the story of this wondrous age, And reading stand before its truth declared, To solve the mystery why one soul is spared. So, as we strive, the wonder deeper grows When mysteries solved but greater still disclose : Behind them, Law dishonored, threat'ning stands, The lash and sword in its avenging hands ; And back of Law stands weeping Innocence, With covered face but waiting to go hence: While Love and Mercy at their altars wait, With outstretched hands, imploring 'gainst her fate ; While fragrant incense sweetens all the air With the rich odors of their generous prayer ; While over these the trembling heavens nod Beneath the tread of the oncoming God, Who, veiled in clouds, hides his mysterious face, Whose smile can save, whose frown destroy a race. On that dread march Jehovah Jireh made Along Judea's hills in Christ portrayed, Before his Messenger revealed we stand, And lo ! now Christ himself is near at hand ! ECCE HOMO 49 IV. JCDETH. Look ! how they gather close about him. Fair Is he, save that the sun has bronzed : his hair, The tawny lion's mane, sun-scorched and long, But silken-soft as a young maiden's. Tongue Inspired his eye cannot describe. Clearer Than midday sky, the zenith stooping nearer Unto the earth, and of its blue a part ! It has the fire of suns that flame and dart Both life and death in their alternate beams ; And yet within its depths lie sweetest dreams Of love and peace. MARY. If so, I fail to see In him aught you describe, save, it may be, The shaggy mane and beard. His bristling brows, Bent in two frowning curves like bended bows, Obscure the azure blue in murky night, From which shoot flashes of a baleful light That chills my blood. LAZARUS. You judge through your desire, And see in him what you would most admire : Your heart, romantic in its view of life, Of saint would make a robber ; peace to strife Would turn, then revel in the discord ! MARY. • Nay ! You wrong me, brother, thus in what you say. For I would fain believe him Prophet sent To call the world to God, have man repent, And peace unbroken reign on earth alway, Than think him robber schooled from youth to slay His fellow-kind. But him I can but read As thus he stands before me. Faith and creed To better vision fail to ope my eyes, To see in him what I may not despise ! 50 THE STORY OF JUDETH MARTHA. Why, Mary ! Judge not, since not e'en a word Have you from him in all his teachings heard ! The pomegranate forbidding first appears In russet clad, nor outward promise bears Of the rich stores within. Cleft to the heart, The sweets are seen as fall the halves apart. So, from the dusty rock of Horeb's plain, Gushed the pent waters from their hidden vein : Elisha, clad in skins of beasts, still bore God's truth within his heart ; so sacred power May dwell to-day with yonder man. JUDETH. Behold ! They gather closer still to hear him ! Bold Are now his looks, and, hark ! his strengthening speech Sweeps ringing out unto the farthest reach Of this vast multitude, as, full and clear, Drop his calm words into the dullest ear, Hushing them all to silence. Hark ye all ! Nor let us lose one of his words that fall : The little distance gives us vantage-ground, Where echo fails to reach in its rebound. VI. " Ho, ev'ry one ! " he cries in trumpet tones, That in the distance die in quavering moans, " Come to the waters, come ye all and drink, Where flows the fountain to its crimsoned brink ; Come ye who have no money, come and buy Both wine and milk, and all your wants supply. Why spend your gold for that which is not bread When from his bounty ye may all be fed ? Eat but the good and ye shall prosper then ; The soul delight in fatness, blest of men And God. Incline thine ear, come unto me, And then your soul shall live, and I with thee ECCE HOMO 51 A covenant will make, even the sure Mercies of David, and they shall endure. Behold my witness now to you I bring, Commander, Leader, Saviour, ay, and King! A nation thou shalt call thou dost not know, And nations that to thee have long been foe, Because thy God and Israel's Holy One Hath glorified thee, unto thee shall run. Seek ye the Lord while yet he may be near And call upon him while he still may hear ; Forsake your evil ways, ye wicked, turn, Unrighteous man, while yet the lamp doth burn ; For God invites, his mercy still endures, His pardon purifies, his blessing cures. My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, saith God. The heavens that yonder blaze High over all, from earth are not less far Than are my thoughts from yours ; and yet there are Such blessings in my word, which, like the rain And snow that fall, returning not again To heaven but watereth all the earth, until Its flowers and fruits the teeming valleys fill And man is fed ; so it shall not return Unto me void, but ye shall know and learn That what I will it doeth, and at my hand Shall prosper whereunto I may command. Ye shall go out in joy, and thus be led In paths of peace ; the mountains shall be glad, The hills break forth before you into song, The trees clap hands, and earth the notes prolong. Where springs the thorn the fir-tree shall abound, Instead of briars the myrtle cheer the ground, And ye shall know by these it is a sign Ye shall not be cut off by hand divine." Thus spake your Prophet as the voice of God From his high throne, whence shines his grace abroad, Proclaiming forth his mercies and his love Unto your fathers, which you now may prove. Repent, O Israel, while yet the day Is yours, and for your coming Lord make way ; Prepare his road and make his pathway straight, For now the hour doth for his coming wait. 52 THE STORY OF JUDETH Turn from your sins, O Israel ! now turn ; Cannot your eyes signs of the times discern ? The heathen world your King and Saviour waits, Impatient still at your unopened gates. Lift up your gates and let the song begin, " Behold, the King of Glory shall come in." The valleys shall be filled ; mountain and hill Brought low, the crooked ways made straight, and still The roughened ways made smooth ; and then all flesh Shall see Salvation's stream pour forth afresh. Now is the day of your salvation, now The hour when forth its living streams shall flow ! Behold the signs and portents which declare The Lord to save his arm has now made bare. The earth is sick from sin, the hills are faint, The valleys in their groanings make complaint ; Hoar Lebanon with cedars crowned bows low, While Hermon stoops his ancient brows of snow ; The Jordan bears his burden of the wrong, And flowing down chants mournfully his song. The thirsting plains with hot lips faintly cry, Because the brooks and rills have all run dry ; While yon salt sea with its baked Hjds complains Of desolation blasting all the plains. Your cities cry aloud with woful call From street deserted and from broken wall ; Profaned your Temple from its altar cries, And clouds the air from useless sacrifice ; While Gentile feet pollute the sacred courts, And to its holy shrine the vile resorts. God's house and altar by the heathen won Have left your lands and cities all undone ; And yet you boast of glory ! Proudly scorn The Gentile hand by which your power is shorn ! Live in your name, which now is long since dead, To leave you slaves and sycophants instead- Of God deserted, vengeance on your path Pursues you with the besom of his wrath. ECCE HOMO 53 VII. Who are these come to me ? From sable face Which marks the sun-scorched Ethiopic race ; In tawny skin and darkly piercing eye The Bedouin of the Desert I descry ; The sallow visage of the Greek I see, The Roman mantle flowing loose and free : Ay, ev'ry region, mountain, hill, and plain Has sent its band to swell the gathering train. What come you out to see ? is it a reed Here shaken by the wind ? Oh, hear and heed ! I am a man, my message is to men : Repent, repent I say to you again. But who are these who laugh me now to scorn ? 'T were better far that ye had ne'er been born, Ye viper's brood with brows of hateful gloom, Who warneth you to flee the wrath to come ? Fruits meet for your repentance henceforth bring, Nor boast descent from patriarch or king : E'en of these stones, in these degenerate days, Children to Abra'm God hath power to raise. What boots it if your father Abraham be ? The axe lies at the root of ev'ry tree, And ev'ry tree, though robed in bursting bloom, In promised fruit breathing a rich perfume, That barren grows or faileth our desire, To earth is hewn and cast into the fire. Not ye, the people, nay, not ye alone : The evil reacheth even to the throne ; The king, the court, and those in places high Our God insulteth and his laws defy. Pollution sits in purple, and the fair, The robes incestuous of the bridal wear ; Red-handed Murder from each gateway frowns, Unblushing revel midnight orgies crowns ; Day mocks the night's debauch with lust and wine, And lights the torch again at sun's decline. From thousand altars flame your base desires, While in the Temple pale God's altar-fires ; For desolate is Zion, lone and sad She sits now weeping and in sackcloth clad ! 54 THE STORY OF JUDETH Return to her and comfort ; hasten, bring Your gifts unto her altars. Lo ! her king In triumph now is coming to his own : No more shall Zion desolate he and lone. ONE OF THE PEOPLE. What shall we do ? JOHN BAPTIST. Who hath two coats must one Bestow on him who, now in need, hath none ; And he who yet also hath store of meat Must to his hungry neighbor give to eat. A PUBLICAN. My master, what, I pray thee, shall we do ? JOHN BAPTIST Exact no more than what is just to you. A ROMAN SOLDIER. And what of us ? JOHN BAPTIST. Do violence to none : Speak no one false ; small wage is lightly won. VIII. I read your hearts, People ! In your thought There lingers much of wonder, more of doubt, If I be the Messiah long foretold Whom now your anxious eyes long to behold. With water I baptize, but there is One Whose coming now in faith I look upon, My follower, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy e'en to stoop and loose, To whose dread name no mortal dare aspire, He with the Holy Ghost baptizes and with fire : Whose fan is in his hand, his threshing-floor To purge, his wheat he will in garner store ; The chaff, when purged the wheat by winnowing well, He then will burn with fires unquenchable. ECCE HOMO 55 IX. Haste, for his coming all your hearts prepare ; The world's salvation I in truth declare ; The promised day the Prophet long foretold Is now at hand ; through ages hoar and old The sages saw this day, the day of days, When from the seed of David God should raise Emanuel up, The Christ, the Blessed One, To save his heritage through Sin undone ! Rise, shine, O Truth ! and touch the smoking hills, Until the earth beneath thy footsteps thrills, And every knee shall bow, each tongue confess The Lord is God, and his own righteousness.. Awake, O Israel ! Ye nations, hear ! The Lord is God ! He draweth very near ! Purge out your sins, for hath he not declared He who repents he also shall be spared ? Although your sins be scarlet they shall be Like wool, when cleansed, from spot and stain set free ; And though they are like crimson in their glow, At his pure touch they shall be white as snow ! THE PEOPLE. What shall we do ? JOHN BAPTIST. Repent and be baptized. VOICES. We do repent, of that you are apprised, And here await the cleansing flood. JOHN BAPTIST. Step down Into the stream, to God allegiance own, And I will follow. X, MARY. Let us stem this throng — Hark ! Once again I hear that morning song Come up from out the waters pure and sweet, 56 THE STORY OF JUDETH In woman's silvery tones. It is not meet That she should breast the chilling tide with men, And buffet with the waters. Hark ! Again From out the stream a hundred voices more Catch up the song, and, borne along the shore, It swells in mighty chorus, while the air Is burdened with its slowly chanted prayer. JUDETH. Here now is vantage-ground, here let us stay. Why should the throng at our approach give way, And shrink from us in doubt and some amaze ? You, Lazarus, are the centre of their gaze ! LAZARUS. I cannot answer you, but only know The fact alone that, as you say, 't is so ; And, better still, that when at morn they press'd So close about us we were sore distress'd, Since now it gives to us this vantage-ground, Which else in this vast throng we had not found. MARTHA. Look well about you : in this motley horde The noisome seeds of pestilence is stored. MARY. If so, from yonder washing we may deem Pollution festers in the Jordan's stream, And all its banks are sodden. Mary, still Your words are wayward as your stubborn will. All holy things are trivial in your eyes : Have care, else you the truth of God despise. LAZARUS. Peace ! Let us see and listen. This is strange ! As far around me as my eyes can range Sweep out the plains about the purpling sea, Ingirt with mountains that around them be ; ECCE HOMO 51 And yet along each far and winding way, Drawn near to sight by this most perfect day, The throngs still come ! In groups and then alone The people from the uplands hasten down ; While from the valleys upward winding still, Through leafy grove and over barren hill, They haste to hear this man whose wondrous power Recalls Elijah from his cave once more : While at our feet, in masses circling wide, The Jordan's banks are packed on either side ; And in the stream, behold, how still they throng, And fill the air with shout and triumph song ! While he, whose fiery speech inflamed their souls, With the chill waters now their burning cools, Yet feeds the flames which warm the heart within, Purged through the waters of its quenching sin, And hallelujahs from the waves arise In joyful shouts and cleave the bending skies. They come and go, a flux and reflux stream, And gather where the parting waters gleam ; As his strong arm with plunging motion bends, The shivering form beneath the flood descends ; Like some coarse shepherd in the budding spring, Who doth his flock to some clear brooklet bring, To wash their shaggy coats before he shears, Equipped among his pent-up flock appears : The patriarch of his flock he roughly leads Along the stream, nor his loud bleating heeds, But, plunging in the stream, with roughened hand Scrubs his long coat, then drives him out to land ; The teeming ewes his careful fingers press With tenderness that seems a half caress, While his strong arms the old and feeble bear, For age and weakness merit all his care. So he to each his duty here fulfils ; Somewhat of his own feeling, too, instils Into these hearts, who by their faith alone Believe in what his earnest hands have done. XL MARY. They are now almost done. 58 THE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS. Yes, now the last Goes down into the water. Ah ! how fast He hath baptized them ! I can understand Nought of his meaning, — where he gets command For this strange sacrament ; not in our law, If I can read it right. MARY. Yet we may draw By inference implied command. JUDETH. How so ? I do not catch your meaning. MARY. Well, you know That purity is one of our great laws. No people ever had a greater cause For washing than have these baptized to-day : We all have gained to that extent. I pray You mercy, sister Mary, since your wit Truth and occasion both to-day has hit. But he is coming from the waters. Grand, Indeed, majestic is his mien. Command Sits in his eye, and yet so gently there, Until aroused of it none seems aware. How glows his face ! Encircling his white brow A clinging light is shedding a faint glow, As falls the sunlight over him. Indeed ! Are not my words deserving of your heed That you should gaze, forgetful of us here, Out o'er the landscape ? ECCE HOMO 59 XII. LAZARUS. See ! Now drawing near, Who cometh yonder ? JUDETH. It is but a man As other men, save that — LAZARUS. Save what ? JUDETH. Began I that to tell, had not you rudely broke The thread of forming thought just as I spoke. LAZARUS. Your pardon, then, I crave for my rude speech : Impatience in such school is hard to teach To be polite, and so itself restrain. But now I pray that you would look again, And tell me what of him who comes apace. JUDETH. I am and have been looking. In his face, As he draws nearer, is that wondrous light Which shines through sorrow, making sadness bright ! With measured pace he comes, and looks downcast From sorrows yet to come or griefs long past : No trace of fear, no line of evil there, — An Angel's face in innocence ! XIII. LAZARUS. And fair And sweet as woman's when her love and truth Have made her perfect in her hope and youth. JUDETH. You, said the last, not I. No woman born, 60 THE STORY OF JUDETH Hath half the beauty in her freshest morn. As he who cometh yonder. Ah ! How fair The tender face, how rich the golden hair, Now glowing in the sunlight with a blaze Like molten gold aglow, a double sheen Encircling and above the head is seen ! Majestic are his strides ; yet, where they pass, His feet are tender of the yielding grass As if he feared to give it pain. But see ! A fluttering dove, which from a hawk doth flee, Finds shelter in his bosom ! while its foe "With angry cry hastes to the groves below. How tenderly he wraps it in the folds Of his white robe, and to his bosom holds The frightened thing ! Ah, me ! How sweet such rest When love is pillowed on affection's breast ! XIV. MAEY. Doth that come from the heart, you needs must sigh In speaking of it ? JUDETH. Please excuse reply, At hour like this, to such a question. f True, The hour is early, — is it late for you ? JUDETH. I do not understand, save that at best Of me or the occasion you make jest. For me I care not, but a something swells My heart with tenderness, and to me tells That of this day, some way, there shall arise The crowning work of all Earth's mysteries. But we forget, while speaking : as he nears, More beautiful his countenance appears ; And, as he looks upon the people, rise, Floods of compassion clouding his sweet eyes ; Whilst Love absorbent in their light appears, ECCE HOMO 61 And Pity melts their liquid light to tears. How strangely hath he all my thought possessed, My reason captured, occupied my breast ! With not a word, thought, touch, or glance of eye, Have I been noticed as he passeth by. Who can he be that hath such power to move At sight of him, enchain our will and love, Wring from our lips confessions that might shame Our cheeks to blushes, if we made the same Unasked to dearest friend ; and yet his will A captive leads me, though reluctant still ! XV. And yet, it seems, his glance in passing by Would smite with terror, — at his touch we die : Yet from his lips a word, and dried our tears, Death glows in life, and banished all our fears. But see ! the crowd is parting ere he gains The outmost circle of the nearer plains, As if his touch instinctively it felt At which the densely crowded masses melt, And leave for him a broad, unbroken track, A kingly way, from which the lines fall back, Down to the river brink : there stands revealed John Baptist, whom the crowd before concealed. He catches sight of him whose hast'ning feet Are rushing on the Prophet-seer to greet, When, lo ! transfixed with wonder and delight, He stands as one heart-ravished by the sight. And, hark ! he speaks, as with his outstretched hand He points to him in gesture of command. XVI. JOHN BAPTIST. Hear, O ye people ! Blessed over all This day exceeding others ; now extol The loving-kindness God to you hath shown, Since Christ the Lord now cometh to his own. Behold the Lamb of God which takes away The sin of the whole world : again I say, 62 THE STORY OF JUDETH As I have said of him whom you now see, That there is one who cometh after me, Preferred before me, and in all before, The one who was, and is, and is to come : adore Him, since he is the Christ, not I. I knew Him not, but knew, as I proclaimed to you, To Israel he should be made appear, And I, therefore, baptized with water. Hear, And all ye people to my words give heed, This is the Christ ; he is the Lord indeed. JESUS OF NAZARETH. Beloved, I salute thee, and the rite Baptismal at thy hands I now invite. JOHN BAPTIST. Nay ; I have need to be baptized of thee, Unworthy all, and comest thou to me ? JESUS OF NAZARETH. Nay, suffer it to be so as I will, For thus all righteousness we shall fulfil. JOHN BAPTIST. Not as I will, O God, but as thou wilt, Since to offend in me would now be guilt : The blessing in the deed makes glad this day, As I through thee shall wash all sin away. XVII. And as he ceased they to the water turn ; The waiting crowd, of mystery more to learn, Strain ev'ry power of eye, set ev'ry ear, Of that which may be both to see and hear. And thus in breathless pause, with lips apart And hands pressed close to still the leaping heart, They wait expectant, wondering, as they stand, What new succeeding myst'ry is at hand. Nor is it man alone which feels the power, The solemn voicings of the passing hour ; All Nature seems instinctive now to thrill ECCE HOMO 63 With the deep silence, and herself stand still : The falcon, speeding for its fleeing prey, Hangs poised in air and powerless, while, midway, Between its foe and the far sheltering grove, Rests on the wing the swiftly fleeing dove, Both fixed in air like painted things of life Bent to the action in the eager strife. The ruffled sea has hushed its voice once more, And its spent waves now creep along the shore ; The Jordan hushes, too, its rippling song, And rolls unbroken its swift stream along, As conscious once again of godly will As when at Prophet's touch its floods stood still. The winds lie hushed, no tremor of a breeze Stirs the green foliage of the silent trees ; And Earth her thousand voices stills to rest, And in the robes of silence wraps her breast : The Heavens also are hushed, nor living thing Gives voice to song nor strident note to wing ; So deep its arch, bent in cerulean blue, It stooping seems unto the eager view, As if in listening it bent to hear The voice of him whose breath wings ev'ry sphere, While he who sits the circle of the Heaven His stooping ear unto the hour has given. Nor of that throng so hushed, are any there More eager than our friends. The very air, Though hushed as death, seems boisterous to their ears ; A trembling mist a shadow dark appears, And were unwitting whisper breathed, its sound As rapier keen with discords now would wound. XVIH. Judeth, whose eager eye's unvarying gaze Clings breathlessly to Christ's angelic face, Moves not, but rigid as a statue stands, With quivering lips and tightly clasping hands ; Her heaving bosom, constant in its sighs, Pays equal tribute with her longing eyes : Why, were she asked, all answer must forego, Save the one refuge in " I do not know," 64 THE STORY OF JUDETH With Mary, less of interest, little zeal Is hers in this occasion now to feel. Yet over her there came at last a spell Which hushed her lips, but why, she could not tell ; While Martha's rigid form, like chiselled stone, Showed nought of life save that she breathed alone, And the fixed coldness of her features seemed As if she saw while yet asleep she dreamed ! But Lazarus was a study as he stood, With features changing with each varying mood, The eye perplexed, the mind still left in doubt, Of nothing sure, he was so tossed about. XIX. As to the Jordan's brink they slowly pass, The stream lies waveless as a sea of glass, Save where their feet, dipt in the sleeping tide, Spread out the circling wavelets far and wide, As deeper still they thread the trackless strand With footsteps touching scarce the snowy sand. The silent waters, motionless before, Run swiftly out from the receding shore ; With liquid arms reach, longing to embrace His sinking form, and fly to kiss his face With crystal lips, then break into a song Which zephyrs, catching, o'er the hills prolong ; While golden showers of soft, ethereal light In halo veil him from the blinded sight, And sit upon the waters in repose, As o'er his face the trembling ripples close. As lifts his head a golden arch is thrown Above his brow and girts his head a crown, While matchless beauty on his features glows In radiant splendor, softening to repose ! XX. In awe the people gaze upon that face, More beautiful than aught of mortal race, With lips apart, whose voiceless praise confess The matchless beauty of his loveliness. _ ECCE HOMO 65 How long they thus had gazed in silence none Might tell, had not the hotly glowing sun His glory veiled in clouds of purple light, Whose matchless splendor quenched the feeble sight, Yet filled the heavens with glory such as none With mortal sight might hope to look upon. Then parting at the zenith, crystal sea, Eternal Courts, Elysian Fields, the Tree Of Life, in glory flash upon the view, As Paradise from opening gates bursts through : Whence, flying forth from out the hand of Love, Came hovering down in form a milk-white dove, With glowing radiance trembling o'er its wings, Which through the skies a bright effulgence flings In benisons for all the Earth, with light To pierce the darkness of its utter night. A moment thus the hovering form is seen, With outstretched wings above the Nazarene : Then on his head, amid the glowing crown, The bird divine with folded wings sinks down While from the cloud-girt gates of Paradise The voice of God is speaking from the skies : " This is my Son beloved ; I am in him Well pleased." It ceased ; a shadow soft and dim Veiled all the heavens, and visible there sat Blanched terror on each face ; and seeing that The people were in fear, John Baptist said, " Beloved children, be ye not afraid : Him whom you see I knew not until he, Who to baptize with water first sent me, Said, Whom thou seest my spirit brood upon, The same is he, the True and Holy One ; With Holy Ghost shall he baptize anew, And ye with fire shall prove if you be true. Behold the Lamb of God ! Repent, believe ; The Strong Deliverer in your hearts receive : My work is finished I was sent to do, And I have run my journey almost through : A highway now for Israel is laid, Press on the conquest and be not afraid." 66 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXI. His words are ended, and with outstretched hands The Christ among the silent people stands : His benediction, breathed upon the air, Soothes with the solace of an answered prayer. They feel the blessing of the spoken word, Though but a murmur by the nearest heard ; Then at its close the silent people wend Their different ways, while friend communes with friend Of all the day's strange scenes, but most of him, Of whom their guesses are but vague and dim, Compared with what the weakest might have known, Had but their zeal pursued the Truth alone. XXII. That night, as in their tents in slumber lay The eyes that watched through the exciting day, No murmur rises on the silent air To warn the Night if aught there liveth there. Though strong the passions which those souls have swayed, How soon the tumult of the storm is laid ! To-day they tremble with consuming fears, To-morrow melt in agony of tears ; To-night, forgetful of the day just past, They sleep as if the night would ever last : To-morrow's twilight throws no trembling beams Athwart the roseate archway of their dreams. XXIII. But not unwatched, a time at least, are they Who thus in silent slumber dreaming lay : If they may sleep, yet there are sleepless eyes Which, watching, wait beneath Judean skies, But not for them, if of them thought, perchance, Links still their being with rememberance : So small the weight of our existence bears Upon the little hour of life it shares ! Two are the watchers who before their tents, Perchance, talk o'er the busy day's events, ECCE HOMO G7 While watching, furtive, on the plains below, The tents which lie a misty field of snow, While silence, creeping from the hills around, At last has wrapped them in its hush profound. We know the watchers, and will now draw near Some fragment of their whispered speech to hear. XXIV. How still the night ! Methinks I almost feel The silence from yon slumbering valley steal, To seize upon my senses, and surprise In slumber my but half -resisting eyes. LAZARUS. You must be weary from this busy day : No longer wait, but go you in, I pray. For me there is no sleep while crowding cares Oppress, and busy thought my pillow shares, As in review my past life now appears To show how few and short my coming years ! No time for sleep is left, should I pursue The work of life my hands shall find to do. But hasten and go in. Why should I go ? When to your load of care I add mine, too, It far outweighs dull sleep — and then — and then LAZARUS. Speak, Judeth, if you will : those words again, " And then," are haunting me to-night. JUDETH. If you, What, then, of me ? If I the mystery knew Of this day's teaching, if I understood But half the secret of my heart's strange mood, — But all is dark to me. 68 TEE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS. Ah, Judeth ! still That same old struggle with a stubborn will Leaves you in doubt and blindness. Just receive The truth as I do, and in faith believe, And then the light will break. XXV. JUDETH. Of you all things I gladly would receive, and on your wings Of Hope would cleave ethereal space to find Your Paradise, and leave all time behind ; But still I cannot, — and there yet seems light To-day a slender ray revealed to sight. Judeth, you know I love you : would I teach You falsely, feeling thus ? JUDETH. Nay, each to each We should be crystal-pure, and nothing hide That in it good or evil may betide. I grant your love, for ever since a child I saw it in your eyes, and when you smiled I felt its kindling glow, and trusted you. LAZARUS. Since you were but a child ? Yes, that is true, And I now well remember it ; but then — JUDETH. Ah ! you have caught " but then." I thought you men Straightforward went and always to the mark. Like me, are you now groping in the dark, Uncertain of your way ? LAZARUS. Uncertain ? No, The way is plain wherein I wish to go, But dare I venture ? ECCE HOMO 69 XXVI. JUDETH. You oft to me have said He is unworthy who holds back through dread, His way being plain. Your maxim taught to me I now give back as fitting well your plea. LAZAKUS. My plea ? I have not made it yet ; what need, Since you confess it all ? JUDETH. Confess ? Indeed, I have confessed nought but of truth to you. It may be that you mentally withdrew "What spoken words implied. JUDETH. Your words distress Me, and I feel their unjust pain, nor less Because in you I have put all my faith, And followed where you pointed out the path. You, who have always been so frank and plain, Who never spoke if speaking added pain, Be now yourself once more and speak your heart, Nor let mere words us longer keep apart, If one but frankly spoken makes all clear. LAZARUS. Then I will speak with no more doubt or fear, As I have warrant from your lips to speak : To hide the truth why should I longer seek ? — Judeth, I love you ! JUDETH. There is nothing new In that, of which you should make such ado In telling, as you know full well my own Free heart to you in trust has long since flown. 70 THE STORY OF JUDETH Your heart to me ? XXVII. LAZARUS. JUDETH. Why, yes ; why not, I pray ? LAZARUS. Judeth ! this to me thrice happy day You make by this confession ! JUDETH. Confession ? 1 do not understand — some wrong impression — Some strange mistake — some — I — you — please ex- plain — But no — yes — how the thoughts whirl through my brain ! I have not heard aright. LAZARUS. Yes, I but said, " I love you, Judeth ; " and you answered — You know your answer ; words so dear and sweet Would lose their flavor should my lips repeat. JUDETH. I did not mean — I did not understand — This is a mean advantage by you planned — Pray, let us now go in, the night is hot — Nay, I mean chill, and we are heeding not — MARTHA. Judeth, Lazarus ! The murk and chilly air Will sicken. For the journey pray prepare With bounteous rest, for with the risen day We should be far upon our homeward way. I now have slept, it seems, the midnight through, And would be sleeping still had not of you Some slumbering thought disturbed. I, waking, heard Your converse low, and here and there a word, And thought it better you forego the night. ECCE HOMO 71 XXVIII. LAZARUS. Most careful Martha ! from your slumbers light It pains me much to think it mine the blame That you awoke. It was in truth my aim — (And interest, too) I say that under tone — That you, a time at least, had slumbered on. MARTHA. Nay, do not so regret my broken rest, Since it was in your interest and was best. Come, Judeth, enter in ; brother, good night ! IAZARUS. Good night, my sister ! Judeth, with you light And hope — the best of life — hath gone within, And where she sleeps there cometh near no sin. The very Earth grows sweeter where she lies, The flowers more lovely watched by her fond eyes : If I but win the jewel of her love, Her better self will in my bettering prove. I yet would linger here to think of her As some lone, wandering pilgrim worshipper, Who, after weary months of lengthening leagues, Slow travelled o'er, enduring their fatigues, Kneels at the shrine which was his eager quest, With streaming eyes and fiercely heaving breast, And pours his prayers incessant at the shrine Of God adored that grace may on him shine, Then waits the light to fall, and sweetly roll The burdening sins away from his sad soul : So I, to-night, before the shrine of Love Have poured my prayer, his wayward heart to move, And linger still, uncertain of the hour When he shall answer with assuring power. But I must rest : the night fast speeds away, Soon morning comes to clothe the sky in gray ; To deepen into purple, as sweet song Swells into chorus as it floods along, Until the glowing Earth in rhythmic light Shall blaze an anthem on the ravished sight ! Good night, fair stars ! I love you better now, Since your pale light has kissed her vestal brow. 72 THE STORY OF JUDETH CANTO FOURTH. IN THE WILDERNESS. I. With morning's light, full half the booths or more Which, as a tented city, lined the shore Where stretched the plain along the Jordan's strand, Fold their white wings along the gleaming sand, And, with the lengthening hours of growing day, Join the slow caravan along the way Returning to the homes from whence they came ; Drawn hither by the Prophet's matchless fame, Now well assured his task is well-nigh done, And in the Christ's a greater work begun. First in the van our whilom friends we see With faces turned again towards Bethany ; Yet in their hearts the fires of truth still burn, And light the rugged way of their return, — Not with the peace which lulls them to repose, But one forgetful of our lesser woes. As they pass by, scarce can we now forego With them the homeward journey to pursue ; So fair the day, so bright each kindly smile, That lure us on and with their charms beguile : But now our way leads otherwhere, and we To choose, except through duty, are not free. II. Farewell, sweet plain ! our sojourn here is o'er, Adieu, bright waters and delightful shore ! The scenes you witnessed consecrate your name, And crown your memory with immortal fame. Here would we linger, ravished by each scene, Of vale enraptured, charmed by valleys green ; Forgetful still of life and time, would dream Our life away beside the Jordan's stream, Or float resistless to its silent grave IN THE WILDERNESS 73 Within the Dead Sea's still and lifeless wave. Here would we drink of fountains whose sweet tide In soothing music through the valleys glide, Eat of its fruits its spreading groves supply Whose leaves ne'er fade and blossoms never die ; Charmed by the songs its blushing maidens sing, Until e'en life would madly from us fling ! But we must turn our steps, reluctant still, And follow duty with subjective will, Where leads before that bowed but stately form, With stooping face as buffeting the storm, Into the wilderness of doleful night, Into the mountain's steep and craggy height, Whither the Lord, led by the Spirit, goes, Not to escape, but there to meet his foes : And, in the weakness of the fainting flesh, Be tempted of the Devil ; who, afresh As erst, in Paradise, our mother won, His wiles would try upon God's only Son. III. On, on he goes, out from the pressing throng From sight of face and sound of human tongue, Within a wilderness so wild, into A solitude so vast, to inner view Was God himself concealed, the light shut out, The spirit visible withdrawn, while doubt The darkened shadows of its night unrolled, And lay upon the earth a horror cold. The weakness of the man, the frail, faint flesh, Was on him now and wrung his soul afresh. Now for the first the hand of God is hid That erst the darkened way to him forbid, And as the shadows drop in pall of night Across his soul's horizon's clouded light, Leaving a darkness gathering deeper still, To pierce his heart with shafts that pain and chill, He learns the bitter lesson of the fate That follows the divine in man's estate, — That he as man, not God, alone must stand, Without the Father's stay and guiding hand ; 74 THE STORY OF JUDETH That he must feel the sorrows of the flesh, As man, with wounds that over bleed afresh At touch of pain, in deepest solitude Must sit far separate in lonely wood. No angel whispers soothing his sad hours, No heavenly voice to stay his failing powers, No smile divine his drooping heart to cheer "With the fond thought that God himself is near ! IV. The Spirit that hath led him on thus far Now leaveth him the uncrowned Avatar, The Prince of Heaven of majesty now shorn, And clothed in human robes in weakness worn. The Angels that had ever thronged his way With the bright glory of eternal day, At God's command fled far beyond the bound Of mortal sight, and there hung hovering round, Without the veil along the bending skies With quivering hearts and sleep-untrammelled eyes, Watching their dear beloved they long to cheer With whispers wafted to his earth-dull'd ear. Dread silence reigns and hushed all earthly sound, In solitude days speed in lengthened round, And Night drops down his sable curtains gemmed That veil his dusky brow star-diademed ; Where flashing worlds a million myriads roll From zenith outward to each separate pole, While fleecy clouds in folds of snowy white Like ermine bind the sable robes of Night. He knew those worlds, their orbits and their spheres, Their course and time through unrecorded years : He knew their source of light and what each bore, How peopled and by whom, — their mystic lore ; For was he not before them and all Time, And tuned Creation to its rhythmic chime ? The moon, the wrinkled, vitreous moon, a world With fires long quenched when into space was hurled, Companion was, and he conversed with her Then face to face, as friend, not worshipper. Well did he love all creatures of the hand IN THE WILDERNESS 75 Creative, if 't were flower or system grand. His shortened vision circumscribed by clay Shut out the worlds that far beyond these lay, Yet these he saw in memory shining clear, As, speeding on, swung out each separate sphere ; As sightless eyes remembered scenes behold When they long years in rayless night have rolled, Across the darkness of the vision's night Sweep out in grand and never-failing light. The Sun he saw in all his glory rise, And record days as points across the skies ; He knew the limit of his farthest beams, As woodmen know the source of hidden streams ; Where other suns caught up his paling light He knew, and the far bounds of utter night. All Nature's vast profound a mystery To man unsolved, then, now, and still to be, To Christ revealed her hidden truths and laid Them bare to him, from sun to smallest blade Which parts the earth, a dainty point of green And far too small unwitting to be seen. With all communed the Master in this hour, With heart of tender love. Each bursting flower Unsealed its fragrant cup of sweet perfume The kissing zephyrs ravished from the bloom, And in his locks, wet with the nightly dews, Mingled their thousand sweets of wealth profuse, And, naught disturbing his unpillowed rest, Upon his brow their soft, wet kisses press'd, In tender love as soft as starlight's fall On velvet sward, and soothing sweet withal. Through all the day the birds their carols hold, And sing a thousand songs that ne'er grow old, In ev'ry note of which breathes love sublime In praise of Him whom not to praise were crime ; And as they sing from bough to bough they fly, Wild in each quivering heart's sweet ecstasy. 76 THE STORY OF JUDETH VI. And then, when darkness deepens on the day, From hidden lairs come forth the beasts of prey ; Their white fangs gnashing with impotent power, And threaten death, but only dust devour. Although no chains restrain, no cage confines, Their ravings drop to low, submissive whines, As to his feet they cringing creep subdued, No lamb less guilty of the shepherd's blood. Surely the Lord is great when thus obeyed, Obeisance by the powers of Earth is made To him in all the princely homage due From hearts of subjects loyal in love and true : Yet all this makes his weakness felt the more, By homage paid when he is shorn of power. VII. Is he not man ? and man of woman born ? In weakness he a more than Samson shorn ! The Deity within, no less, was still The Deity who heard the rhythmic thrill When first in far Creation's tuneful days The Morning Stars together sang his praise ! Still godly knowledge lives undimmed and clear, Without a cloud to darken wisdom here ; All is in all complete ; the Past is spread Across the vision and unfolding, read The pages of creation. Infinite, The mind immortal veiled in mortal sight. This hid the Father's face as veil dropped down Between him and the high, eternal throne, Like that which shut the Mercy Seat from sight, And in the Temple veiled Shekinah's awful light. VIII. The desolate, wild waste, with horrors strown, A Paradise, were not God's smile withdrawn ! Thoughts, memories, — all Infinite could bring From Time o'er past, sped by on dusky wing : IN THE WILDERNESS 77 The plans evolved by Deity, vague forms Unshaped, Creation's new chaotic storms Upon the utmost verge of finite bounds, Had drawn his heart unwearied in their rounds And hushed all human cries for light, the while, Had not the Father still withheld his smile. He is alone, but not as mortals are, Whom from their fellows Fate has thrust afar, But yet with God above, whose ready ear Their faintest prayer, a listener, stoops to hear, And, hearing, flies on wings of urgent love His prayers to answer and his fears remove. Not as the prisoner who lacks for bread : Though man may fail he trusts to God o'erhead With faith, though man be deaf to all his cries, His faintest whispers pierce the bending skies. Not thus with Christ, to human weakness born, His stay on God in this dark hour is shorn ; Alone he bears temptations such as hurled Man down to Hell, and lost through him a world ! Yet such the burden to redeem he bears, And in this hour supreme no mortal shares With him the peril ! Should he faint or fall, Lost, lost eternally ! And with him all Hope flies the sinking world ; but should he win, The world is saved and man redeemed from sin ! IX. When he for forty days and nights had led His fast unbroken, tasting not of bread, He was an hungered, and the fainting pain A palsy seized his limbs, benumbed his brain. His memory, which in solitude had cheered, Like drifting bark when lost the hand which steered, Fled here and there upon chaotic seas, Through mists obscure, the sport of every breeze. The mind, enfeebled through its failing force, Ranged every field nor held to reason's course ; Its failing powers launched wild the vaporing thought, Amid strange visions saw all tilings distraught : Of all uncertain, save alone that he The Saviour of the world was yet to be. 78 THE STORY OF JUDETH X. Again with friends he gathers at the board With tempting meats in generous bounty stored, And there divides unto the waiting guest The bread to them which he in breaking blest ; And yet, though frugal each divided share, To him the meat a rich and princely fare. Again the trees which crown each fruitful hill Their ripened fruits invite to pluck who will ; The vineyards round the terraced hillsides crown With purple grapes, and stretching lower down The figs and dates, while on the plain below The later harvests for the reapers grow. There, too, brown hands distended udders drain, Else from the comb the amber honey strain ; And all the land the hungry soul invites To revel now unchecked in its delights. XI. Now Satan comes : the wily Tempter knows The power and weakness of his human foes ; That appetite is man's eternal bane, And through desire his weakened soul is slain. The mortal weakness of the Eternal one, The man in him, through this may be undone. And so to Christ he said, — his course well planned, — " If thou be Christ, the Son of God, command That of these stones there be made bread." What force, What bitter irony of speech ! Of course Divinity is here denied, with doubt And with contempt his name is hedged about. The task is easy, — pleasing, too, applied, And satisfies his hunger and his pride : The act which feeds will Satan, too, confound, And unbelief will slay or sorely wound ; Dissolve its bulwarks like a fleeting dream, And prove him God incarnate and supreme ! Yet, Esau-like, he thus would barter all The hope of man that stayed him since the fall, His own fair heritage of God bestowed, IN THE WILDERNESS 79 The Sonship and the throne he shared with God ; The love of angels, hymns of votive praise, Eternal shores, ethereal worlds that blaze In endless light, where Hope and Mercy reign, Never to soar into those realms again, But with man lost whom he had come to save, And make of earth a universal grave ! For such a prize the wily Tempter played, While Heaven stooped low and Earth beheld dismayed. Was e'er before poised in such equal scale Such destinies and yet the weak prevail ? Ah ! had it been some weak and starving child, Wayworn and weary and with hunger wild, How quick his pitying lips in love had said, " To feed my lamb, ye barren stones be bread ! " Then at his touch their flinty hearts had grown Yeasty and sweet as turned to bread the stone ! While Heaven to him rich blessings would accord, And Earth aloud shout praises to her Lord. He is an hungered, perishing for bread, That Earth through him to fulness may be fed ! XII. Now answers he, and with a visage stern, That Satan well the lesson grave may learn, And says, " It written is, ' Man shall not live By bread alone,' whatever he receive, i But by the word from out the mouth of God.' " So answered he whose fame soon spread abroad, When he, in answer to that power divine, At Cana's feast turned water into wine, And fed beside Tiberias' swelling flood With loaves and fishes a vast multitude. Some of his faith, some of Ins loyal love, Still lives on earth, is left to man to prove By cross and chain, by dungeon dark and lone ; By martyred saints to hungry wild beasts thrown ; By burning stake whose winding-sheets of fire Torment the souls that in the flames expire ; By prison walls whose black and reeking stones Were long attuned to suffering martyrs' groans ; 80 THE STORY OF JUDETH By those who dare for him, whate'er the claim, To meet contempt in poverty and shame, Because, like Christ, for right they dared to stand, And suffer for the truth with courage grand. XIII. Of further speech there was small need, and this The Tempter felt, his wiles now gone amiss ; Yet, thinking still advantage to regain, Tries the resources of his crafty brain, For well he knows that human strength is all, Love purified, between him and his fall : By that he still must stand, since from his sight Is hid the face of God and Heaven's delight ! So, from the wilderness and silent gloom, Unto the Holy City's templed dome, E'en to its topmost pinnacle's vast height, Where at his feet the city lies in sight, Diminished, silent, voiceless, there and lone, No sound returning from its streets of stone, No life ev'n seen, except where lingering stray Dwarfed forms diminishing along the way, The Devil taketh him ; and then he saith, To try his virtue and to prove his faith, " If thou be Christ, the Son of God, make known This day the truth, thyself from here cast down : For it is writ, — commission full and large, — ' Concerning thee, he gives his Angels charge, And in their hands they shall thee safely bear, (See how the Word has hedged thee round with care !) Lest thou at any time shalt dash thy foot Against a stone.' " XIV. Again the doubt — dispute — And mocking of God's power. Why not attempt And by God's promise prove himself exempt ? Would not the hand of God or Cherubim Uphold ? and thus confound the enemy Of God and man ? Why not the venture try ? Thus man had reasoned, reasoning thus had tried IN THE WILDERNESS 81 The God of heaven, and reason, thus defied, . Had fallen as falls the fool of wisdom vain, Else saved, like Peter sinking in the main, • By piteous hand. But where the Angel throng ? Where the Eternal Father ? Darkness long Has hid both Cherubim and Seraphim, Angels and powers of Heaven. Far, faint and dim, Lie the Eternal Courts in shadows veiled, To pierce whose heights his human sight has failed. And yet alone upon that dizzy height He holds with Satan now the desperate fight, And with the Word against the Word destroys The specious reasoning the Fiend employs : "So it is writ again," the Christ replies, " ' Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.' " Surprise Confounds him in the answer meetly made From lips which after that the tempest stayed ; The Word a witness, too, against the Word, The truth of God against the Fiend preferred, Who wrested truth to lies, that they might turn False witnesses. From mouths of babes men learn, And age wise maxims oft receives from youth, Where sages seek in vain to find the truth. XV. Now once again, the Saviour still to try, Upon a mountain vast, exceeding high, The Devil taketh him, that he may show Him all the kingdoms of the earth below, And saith, " All these will I give unto thee If thou wilt now fall down and worship me." Unwitting act ! Among those kingdoms vast Arose the Future, Present, and the Past : Yet blinded by ambition still his eye Which once had looked unveiled on Deity ; He thinks the things which had himself undone May win from God his own beloved Son, When he had failed ingloriously and fled To Hell, where he o'er horrors reigns instead, Believing still Ambition, once his bane, May lure from Heaven a mighty prince again. 82 THE STORY OF JUDETH XVI. And he had nought to give, this Jesus knew, And scorned the empty boast and boaster, too, Who spoke him fair and witting in his wile The falsehood which might weaker faith beguile. So from the Fiend he turns with scorn profound, To view the grandeur of the scenes around, Where, stretching backward, Time his circles run, From the sweet morning's now returning sun To where the shaping hand the worlds begun, And earth, in darkling night a shapeless clod, First felt the breath and living touch of God ; And, springing forth from out its nether night, Leaped blazing into God's eternal light, Until the day it parched to ashes lies A blackened ball from which all being dies. He in the garden Adam sees and Eve, Who for their sins in constant tears still grieve ; And at her side the wily serpent sees Whose arts first blind then win the heart they please, As she doth pluck the tempting fruit and eat With death to her and in it Gods defeat : So he believes, as he with mocking cries Down to the Pit with horrid laughter flies, And life throughout all shuddering nature dies ! While from the Garden, lashed by scourging rod, They fly before the frowning face of God. XVII. He sees and weeps, because of man's lost state, Hot tears that fall from eyes compassionate Because of Sin through all the circling years That fills the earth with misery and tears. No pomp of power, no circumstance of state, Or deeds heroic, triumphs of the great, Can turn his gaze a moment from the tide Where Sin's red streams the earth with blood have dyed ! What other eyes with mortal sight had seen, If such with him upon that mount had been, What other tongues had praised as noble themes, IN THE WILDERNESS 83 Great deeds wrought out through man's ambitious dreams. Grand empires built and wrought from human bones, To draw fresh splendor from their people's groans, Whose conquering heroes great are called in praise, As bleeding hands high altars to them raise : Hoar dynasties, long ruled by feeble kings O'erthrown, forget these puppet-painted things, As they in frantic haste now place the crown On stranger brows again to drag them down ! All these he saw, and, seeing, saw the sin Far back in Eden, — he who led him in, When man's young heart, the temple then of love, Pour'd forth itself in praise to God above From crystal depths within which had not been Aught but the face of God reflected seen ; Now, all polluted, from this fount is pour'd The bitter waters of this sin abhorred. XVIII. From Cain's rude bludgeon madly cast aside, Red with the blood of fallen Abel dyed, He saw strange weapons shaped with cunning skill, With which man learned the art and use to kill, When war gave license, or when might made right, Fierce Rapine raged and Murder stalked by night. The purple stream from bleeding Abel flowed, A winding river growing deep and broad, He sees with swift and constant current run, Polluting earth and festering in the sun, Beneath the feet of armies, where the slain, Like reaper's sheaves, lay thick on battle plain. To purge the earth and cleanse it from this blood He saw roll in the world-destroying flood ; Which drown'd all life, save but one lingering spark Which toss'd uncertain in the lonely Ark, That on the bosom of the waters sat, At anchor safe upon Mount Ararat. He saw the smoke rise black on Sodom's plain, Its cities burned, their flying people slain, Until of all along the salt sea's shore Remained alone the little town of Zoar ! 84 TEE STORY OF JUDETH In Egypt next he saw a nation rise Whose God and race its rulers soon despise, Oppressed their lands, their burdens grievous grown, Until as one the suffering people moan. The voice of God he hears through Moses speak ; He sees the chains that bind the pestilence break ; And from that land, beneath the gloom of night, To freedom speed a nation in its flight, Then, swift pursuing, Pharaoh's mighty host Engulfed beneath the meeting seas is lost ! Still on their march the fiery pillar set By night, the cloud by day hath led them yet : He hears the notes of Miriam's tuneful tongue As she the triumph of Jehovah sung, When in the waters of the rushing sea Sank Egypt's king and Israel was free ! Then Sinai rears its awful head where God On them his wondrous covenant bestowed, To Moses in the smoking mountain given, With lightnings girt and by the earthquake riven. Scarce forty days communing there he stays, Yet far from God inconstant Israel strays ; E'en while he talks with God, below behold That wayward people in rebellion bold, A golden Calf, old Egypt's god, has cast, And all to Apis bow the knee as in the past ! XIX. Swift speed the vision's changing scenes full fraught, In ev'ry one a lesson grandly taught : The Brazen Serpent here the Cross foreshows ; In Horeb's Rock his smitten side there flows ; The Manna falling in the wilderness, The Bread of Life he gives the world to bless. As Jordan's waves before their feet divide To lead them safely on to Canaan' side, So lead his footsteps through the purple flood, Through Love's highway up to the courts of God. Through this in faith had passed the hoary seers, The priests and prophets of forgotten years ; Through this must pass the saints in years to come, IN THE WILDERNESS 85 With those who watch and wait in outer gloom, To see the Star, Hope's harbinger to them, Which shall arise and shine o'er Bethlehem. XX. Across the Jordan, on Judea's plain, Jerusalem, in glory crowned again, Arose in triumph, with her templed shrine Refulgent in Shekinah's flame divine. King David leads the princely line with lyre, Whose tuneful strains shall ev'ry age inspire ; Her prophets next procession grand prolong, Whose words proclaim the truth with trumpet tongue ; Then come her priests, who, years long gone, have stood By altars sprinkled with atoning blood, Grim in their service, yet with hearts that knew No other faith, and, knowing this, were true. Then spread before Judea's sacred land, With holy memories strown on ev'ry hand, Her verdant valleys and her fertile hills, Where Hermon yet his honeyed dews distils ; Her empire, set by ever-widening bounds, The jewelled boast, Judea's sacred grounds, The Past declared, and in its lesson shows How from the dust this godly nation rose. Thence swept his vision down the future years, O'er broken altars, worshippers in tears ; Her Temple razed, its glory in the dust ; The kingdom rent, a prey to faction's lust ; Barbaric hordes the people's hearts, instead Of Eshcol's grapes, beneath their feet now treado One sign alone, a dim and shadowy form, That lifts above and still withstands the storm, As beacon gleaming through tempestuous night, With fitful flame and still uncertain light, Yet, broad'ning out its ever-bright'ning rays, Shot swiftly down the course of coming days, Until its brightness far outshone the sun, And filled with light all lands it beamed upon. 86 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXI. Then "War grew hushed, or muffled his hoarse roar, As this great light fills each succeeding shore ; The brow of Hate grew smooth as on it burned The beams of love, and frowns to smiles are turned, As songs of joy are breathed from lips whose sighs But answered tears which flowed from weeping eyes. The desert waste, where late the wild beast's den, Has now become the peaceful homes of men ; The wilderness, the haunt of cruel foes, Is sweet with song and " blossoms as a rose ; " While mountains shout a glad and joyous song, The hills its strains in echoing notes prolong ; The rivers from the plains run to the sea, And as they flow shout back the melody ; The lakes and rills in liquid chorus break, And with the murmuring brooks glad music make ; The seas toss high their hands in glad acclaim, And raise their anthems to its bright'ning flame ; The oceans swell the chorus till it rolls To tropic seas and echoes round the poles. This wond'rous light, which sets all nations free, Shines from the Cross that lifts on Calvary ! The song he hears with joyous notes arise, Until the anthem fills both earth and skies, At Bethlehem's low manger first began, With " Peace on earth, in heaven good-will to man." Then from the Cross, with mingling sighs and tears, The swelling anthem greets the doubting ears, And deep'ning still on resurrection morn, Along the skies on angel voices borne, It sweeps the heavens, a flood of joyful fire, In one grand chorus from the heavenly choir. Earth catches up the strain, and backward flings The echoing song until all Nature sings The praise of him who wrought Salvation's plan Of " Peace on earth, in heaven good-will to man." It was enough, and he could gaze no more ; In sight of this, temptation lost its power : A ruined world must be redeemed ; the seers, Who walked by faith in him through all their years, IN THE WILDERNESS 87 Must now be justified, the Law fulfilled, — How, was not his to ask : the Father willed, And his to do and suffer to the end, While to that task mortality must bend. XXII. All this revealed, he then to Satan turns ; His face aglow with indignation burns ; Like gleaming steel his kindling eyes aflame The pride presumptuous of the Tempter tame ; His silence dreadful, and his withering look More dreadful still than words in their rebuke. That craven heart his boastful speech belies, Since Satan's fear his power to give denies ; His shrunken presence withers to a span Before his awful judge, the God in man ! But if mere silence thus upon him wrought, Far more the power when speech with scorn is fraught, As now the Word which he believing owns, With proof condemning his confusion crowns. So, when the Christ, contemptuous of his power, Feels in his soul the triumph of the hour, With nought in action to his plea deferred, Says, with contempt and scorn in ev'ry word, " Get thee behind me, Satan ! " Backwards reels The Fiend as if each word a blow he feels, While consternation fills his darkened soul And clouds of Hell before his vision roll. Yet, not enough this fierce rebuke to give, The words that falsehood slay bid truth to live : So, swift and sure, a keen two-edged sword, He, cleft asunder, falls before the Word. " Is it not written, too, false teacher, tell, In Heaven known and in the Pit as well, That ' thou the Lord thy God shalt worship, him And only him, shalt serve ? ' " Vague, shad'wy, dim, Like smoke ascending or a lowering cloud, The murky mists the lofty mountain shroud, And in their gloom and through their deep'ning night Satan, the Prince of Darkness, takes his flight ! As through the air resound his whistling wings, Across the skies a golden twilight springs ; 88 THE STORY OF JUDETH Earth, hid from sight a moment, reappears In all the glory of its natal years ; No blight of sin, which darkened late its plains, Upon her smiling face revealed remains. From hills and mountains towering grandly there, Shines forth the face of Nature sweet and fair ; The seas and rivers, brooks and rills, all fling Glad hands to plains and mountains, while they sing A song once sung on earth, but lost the strain When Adam fell, which now bursts forth again. XXIII. And, catching up the song from plains below, The heavens themselves in answer vocal grow. At first a whispering echo faintly runs From regions far beyond the farthest suns, And, sweet as voices in the waving grass When through the meadows sighing zephyrs pass, — Aye, soft as night-winds as above they sing, Across the pinions of swift-cleaving wing ! The heavens are filled unto the farthest sphere With the glad chorus swiftly drawing near. While mingling with the strain, one undefined, Like sounds increasing of a rushing wind, And through the mists ethereal brightness gleams, The mountain glows in its dissolving beams, The opening heavens reveal the coming throngs With glad hosannas and triumphant songs. Angels, Archangels, radiant Cherubim, Led on by blazing hosts of Seraphim, Princes of heaven, Powers in burning light, Fill the whole skies with glory in their flight, And Hell's dark shadows from their presence fly, While Heaven's celestial glory fills the sky ! XXIV. White-winged, white-robed, ethereal beings fill The mountain top ; ambrosial dews distil Sweet showers of incense through the glittering trees, And load with balm the heaven-descending breeze. IN THE WILDERNESS 89 Within the light which sits upon the crown Of the broad mountain, swiftly floating down, A grand pavilion, crystalline and pure As heaven's far ether where no mists obscure, Shuts in the mountain by its azure round, And earth within is consecrated ground, A heavenly court with heavenly ministers, Their king enthroned amid his worshippers. The mountain-paths now golden streets become, The humblest flowers have changed to heavenly bloom ; Gnarled, stunted trees upon its distant sides, Where Winter long a cheerless waste abides, To pillared archways stretch their knotted boughs, And gleam with jewelled leaves in golden rows. The rocks which crowd this waste and bleak domain, And make more desolate its arid plain, To jewelled thrones at magic touch now turn, On which the heavenly Princes sit and burn ! The caverned fastness, where some savage beast In far seclusion held his bloody feast From mangled kid or lamb from shepherd torn, Which from the plain he up the heights had borne, Beneath creative touch of unseen hand Aloft and wide its narrow bounds expand : The crystal points which crusted the dull stone, And through the darkness with dim lustre shone, Hang from the lofty archways white as snow, And flood with light the broad expanse below. Where reeking dews that drenched the broken walls, Through which a trickling stream inconstant crawls, Spreading upon them, moist, unseemly seen, Broad, festering splotches of an oozy green, Ambrosial showers of sweetly perfumed dew Around the walls a misty dampness threw, To feed and freshen where the mosses sprung, Gardens of flowers in terraced niches hung, Between whose banks in widening crystal played The stream that shimmered in their darkling shade. The lichens, clinging to the damp, gray stone, To shady groves and blooming arbors grown, With broad walks winding where the insect's tread Its painful course had worn a narrow thread : 90 THE STORY OF JUDETH While flattened stones where ceaseless drippings fell, So worn they scarcely now their nature tell, Broad tables spread of pure and snowy white That gleam and glisten in the prismic light, And in bright radiance glow and flash between The arbored gardens and the groves of green : While on them spread by hands of angels placed A feast such as no mortal e'er may taste ; Ambrosial sweets, fair fruits from gardens where The Tree of Life its fruits immortal bear, And sparkling globlets, each as crystal clear, The dripping nectar flowing with sweet cheer Fresh from the stream which flows beneath the Throne, The Fount of Life to the Evangel shown. Such heavenly feast by angel cohorts spread, Small need was there that stones should be made bread ! A princely kingdom his, beside it shown, The world of Satan man would scorn to own ! XXV. The need did not require so regal feast, Where earthly lips the rich provision taste, When forty days of fasting left scarce power To stay a rage that could e'en stones devour ! Those who have felt such hunger well might deem That this to him appeared a tempting dream From mind distempered by the failing tide Of vital force the vapid thought launched wide, And through the misty mazes of such thought The gleaming lights fantastic visions wrought, While, straying on the confines of life's shore, He tastes of feasts for mortals spread no more ! Not so the Christ ; the heavenly manna spread, To him indeed became the living bread ; The crystal flood, by angel hands bestowed, To him a living stream of water flowed : While he partakes, renewing leaj> the fires Through his shrunk veins, and smiling Hope inspires To rise on wings and cleave the azure dome, And soar triumphant to his heavenly home, Were man redeemed and sped the work of grace, IN THE WILDERNESS 91 And earth no more to be his dwelling-place. Nor his alone to banquet on gross things, For while he feasts the wide pavilion rings With song of praises, chants ethereal sung, To sound of harp attuned to angel tongue : A mighty chorus swelling on the air Fills the whole mountain echoing everywhere With lengthened notes whose joyful sounds proclaim A thousand tributes to Messiah's name ! XXVI. If human thought might shape angelic song, If human notes its echoes mi^ht prolong, If finite mind could know the infinite, And pen of mortal theme immortal write, Then such the song, from mountain height to sea, Swept through the vale of sleeping Galilee. Glory ! shout glory, the conflict is over ; The victor, we crown him Immanuel, God ; Glory, shout glory ! He earth will recover ; Oh, shout the glad tidings to worlds far abroad. Alone in the conflict, the weak and the human, For man he with Satan the fierce battle sped : The victory is won by the seed of the woman, And low in the dust lies the Serpent's bruised head. All glory to God, the Adored, the All-giver ! And glory to Christ ! and again and again Sing glory to Christ, to the Lamb, and forever ! With peace upon earth and good-will to all men ! XXVII. Worn Nature fails, and when the feast is done « The heavenly songs through dreamy currents run, Soft wooing Sleep, which whispers sweet of rest, His yellow locks has to her bosom pressed, And with her breath, as soft as zephyr blown, Has kissed his white and waxen eyelids down ; 92 TEE STORY OF JUDETH His parted lips her shadowy fingers close, While Silence folds him in her sweet repose ! Now sinks the anthem to low- whispered notes, Through heavy air a soothing incense floats ; The shining hosts glide softly through the groves, And lightest zephyr scarce the grasses moves, All sound grows hushed ; the rustle of white wings The faintest echo on the night-wind flings, While heavenly watchers holy vigils keep And guard in love the wearied Master's sleep» XXVIII. The night speeds by ; where yet the curtains drawn The morn's pale lips have kissed the purple Dawn ; The angel watchers, guarding still his rest, So long and weary from his cares opprest, Through the fringed borders of the trees again See the dim twilight glimmering o'er the plain. Softly white arms now glide beneath his head, Gently they lift him from his downy bed ; Broad pinions stretch beneath him, and once more, Cleaving the crystal ether, far they soar Out towards the valley and the distant sea Where sleeps in shadow murmuring Galilee. XXIX. Now is the Word in truth to be fulfilled, Not as the Prince of Darkness falsely willed, Bat as God wills by his divine decree : " He gives his angels charge concerning thee, That in their hands they bear thee up." How grand The prophecy and its fulfilment planned ! For in their arms they now their Saviour bear With sturdy strength and yet the tend'rest care, Until they lay him down in leafy shade Where angel hands his waiting couch have made. So softly borne, so tenderly transposed, Not e'en his trembling eyelids once unclosed, As he slept on throughout the downward flight, On broad wings cradled on the breast of Night, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 93 No dreams disturbing with a fitful start The even pulsing of his tranquil heart. The danger o'er, the shadowy mountains pass'd, Safe in his humble couch he rests at last, While heavy sighs angelic bosoms swell As on their Lord they look a hushed farewell, And, mounting high, they cleave the ambient air ; Just kissed by Dawn, they leave him slumbering there, Until the Morn awakes with roseate beams From the rich banquet of his heavenly dreams. CANTO FIFTH. THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA. I. Awake the song and touch the harp's sweet strings : The soul rejoicing in its gladness sings The new-old song since Adam in his bower First sang the rapture of the nuptial hour. Six thousand years ! And these in centuries told, And when begun the world was growing old ; Yet Love, the same and measured not by years, No more than grief is counted by its tears, Ruled human hearts, and in its roseate reign Robbed e'en mortality itself of pain. How can we sing of it in other lines Than human thought through human heart divines ? Such best interpret : what we feel they teach, As common passion hath a common speech. There is but one green spot, one Paradise, That hath enchantment to the wistful eyes Of young and old, if they but live aright, Save it be Love's deluded anchorite. That spot is where two hearts together brought Live on through life with but one common thought. Love's Paradise they call it ! Those without For it have other name to mock, no doubt. Not all who think they enter in that gate 94 THE STORY OF JUDETH Find Love within its borders roseate ! Love comes not in, is coy ; and oft, when sought, Asleep within some wayside bower is caught. Seek Love out first, cajole and make him sure, Then in your heart his presence will endure : Mistakes mar all, be sure you have the elf ; His clever tricks sometimes deceive himself. Count nothing gained until yourself you know, That stranger self is still your mortal foe. Be just to all ; give ev'ry man his due ; His honeyed sweets may poison be to you. These maxims writ, we now our tale pursue. II. Scarce had returned the caravan once more To Bethany from Jordan's winding shore, When invitation came with urgent haste, In parchment writ, with many protests graced, That on the marriage of a lifetime friend, At Cana they should all straightway attend. Well pleased were Mary, Judeth, and — well, now, With Martha we can scarcely tell you how She took the news. She smiled, — she always smiled When others did : in heart she was a child, Pleased with the joys of others, while their cares She all the burden on her shoulders bears. At first when they were talking she began, As was her wont, for them to fix and plan ; Then there arose a long and fierce array Of obstacles across her further way ! With folded hands she next sat down and sighed, And then in her own quiet way she cried Herself to smiles again. Meantime, deterred By neither obstacle of time or word, Judeth and Mary straightway set about To make the journey ; not a fear or doubt Of its accomplishment in every part One pulse-beat quicker stirred in either heart. This was their motto, — may all such prevail ! — Do first your best, then if you fail, why fail. A sturdy second Lazarus gave each plan, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 95 A thing unusual found, they say, in man : No matter ; still he had some interest shown, At least in this one wedding not his own. Strange freak in man ! In woman, grown or child, Another's marriage always sets her wild ! This truth declare, which all the past but proves Small wonder, then, to swift completion moves Each small detail, until complete and done. The journey thus auspiciously begun Wore to its end : to please it may not fail To give a portion somewhat in detail. III. The road they took when leaving Bethany Along the valley of the Kidron lay, Hard by Mount Zion, where the Jebusite King David's hosts long held in stubborn fight. Then turning up the valley where the road Had worn its rocky way both deep and broad, Beneath the city's high o'erhanging walls Their little caravan in seeming crawls As northward still its further course it bends, Until beyond the city's walls it wends In devious course, but not as one now sees Where Art makes rugged paths broad ways of ease ! What Labor loses thus is Beauty's gain, And Pleasure wins sweet recompense from Pain ! We may not tell — small profit if we should — Of scenes unfolding on the way pursued, But let our friends, as is the wont of those Of kindred faith and feeling, joys and woes, Who journey on together, tell the tale Of the sweet valley or the lonely vale As we pass by, as each remembrance brings To mind and view the unforgotten things Once wrought in them, and give to scene and place A fame that Time itself cannot efface ! 96 THE STORY OF JUDETH IV. Jerusalem receding from the view, Upon their vision opens strangely new And pleasing scenes whose mem'ries dimly rise And tinge with hues romantic to their eyes That which, if all familiar or unknown, Had dull to them and all insipid grown. The skies are bright, the morning fresh and fair, The breath of spices sweetens all the air ; The gardens on the hillsides, rich with bloom, "With beauty charm and solace with perfume ; While groves of dates, gardens of figs and vines, Give promise of rare fruits and generous wines To those whose toil and care their treasures yield, Who prune the bough and till the fruitful field. These they pass by with ever-watchful eyes ; In ev'ry changing scene feel new surprise, From myriad charms and draughts inspiring drawn From the sweet fount of purple-flowing Dawn, Which Day renews with streams from crystal seas, That round them flow with ev'ry fresh'ning breeze, And cheers them as strong wine, while mirthful glee Through early day holds constant revelry. Yet of the hour the sweetness is the bloom, And its retreating tide leaves nought but foam. V. The noon repast shared at some cheering spring, When done, themselves upon the grass they fling Beneath the welcome shade of tree or tent, For rest and sleep, an hour most sweetly spent, Where dreamy thought invites the god of rest, A welcome guest to ev'ry weary breast. Yet at such hour and in such place not all Upon the drowsy god of sleep will call : Perhaps another and a softer voice Some of our friends to hear have now made choice ; A voice who hear with it are charmed withal, And haste to answer its seductive call. Howbeit, Lazarus and Judeth find THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 97 That sleep comes only to a peaceful mind. How true it is that, be it smiles or tears, The beams of hope, the shadowy gloom of fears, The song of joy, the trembling note of pain, The flatterer's kiss, the glance of cold disdain, The slanderer's tongue, the voices that approve, The hiss of hate, the honeyed words of love, Each hath the power to shake the tranquil breast, And rob the heavy eye of light and rest ! VI. Long they communed apart from those who slept ; The lengthening shadows eastward slowly crept ; An hour goes by, and dips the sun's decline, And yet he fails to give the forward sign ! The careless servants, careful of their sleep, Half-waking to the shifting shadows creep ; The mules and donkeys, to the tether fast, Are restless grown, now finished their repast, Uneasy, stamp with hard and unshod feet The burning sands with ever-constant beat, Impatient from the flies their lives have curst, And the sharp pangs of quick-returning thirst. Now Martha, wakeful since the hour o'erspent, Grown weary waiting, calls from out her tent, With voice uncertain, " Judeth, Mary, come ! The heat is spent, nor are we far from home : We must press forward, else we will be late Arrived at Cana." MARY. Where is Judeth ? Fate, Or else I know not what, calls her away With Lazarus, and even on to-day She finds no time for sleep ! MARTHA. What do you mean ? Is she not here ? MARY. The last of her was seen By my poor eyes grown dull and dim for sleep — 98 THE STORY OF JUDETH Nor stealthier than she doth softly creep The hunting tiger stealing on his prey — As she with silent foot passed where I lay. You do not mean to say she has not slept ? MARY. Of that I am not sure, — that is, except One's ears have credit equal to one's eyes. I did not see but heard her low replies To Lazarus' questioning. Mary ! Ah, well ; Of what we hear we cannot always tell, Nor what we see. Sometimes we find our eyes Deceive, else ignorance assumed is wise. MARY. Or else ourselves we fondly would deceive, And fail to see what we would not believe. MARTHA. That may be truth — it is — but who can tell ? False seeming imitates the true so well We know not what is truth. MARY. I think I do. "What is it, then ? MARY. A thing not wholly new In this old world ; and eyes as dull as mine Somewhat of it are able to divine, In this, that Lazarus and Judeth find That double thoughts suit well a single mind. MARTHA. You speak in riddles ; therefore please explain. THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 99 If you insist, I make my meaning plain, And I had thought it glaring. I will say, Of Judeth and Lazarus speaking, they Think each but of the other : double thought, And bat one mind in them, too, is it not ? MARTHA. There, that will do ; I think I understand, So let us to the business now in hand, For Lazarus calls — Well, Judeth ? vn. JUDETH. Hasten, all ! We have o'erslept ourselves. MARY. We? Hear the call ? The guard is mounting, and the hastening men Will soon be ready for the road again : Yes, here is Lazarus awaiting. Why, The day sinks swiftly in the western sky, And, judging from the far-declining sun, There were two hours of rest instead of one. Why not awake us sooner ? LAZARUS. Love forbade, When burning heat is tempered by cool shade, That I disturb your slumber. MARY. It is well 100 THE STORY OF JUDETH To blame Love with it, and your hot cheeks tell The truth of your frank words. LAZARUS. You riddles love, Else mock my kind confession. We must move If we would save the day. MART. That is not lost : It goes to God ; he reckons, in the cost Of life to us hours we do not improve* Which loses most, hours lost to sleep or love ? Mary, make haste ! In idle speech is found The seas in which Time's sweetest years lie drowned. MARY. That may be true and is, for in them there I see you plunge what time you have to spare. VIII. With this they mount, while laughter light and gay Speeds them with cheer along the open way : Nor does their talk a moment further flag, Nor tardy feet along the journey lag, Since their long rest ; while from the distant seas Is felt the touch of the refreshing breeze, Which kissed the mountains with its breath of balm Blown through the groves of olive and of palm, — Through fields of spices, gardens rich in flowers Most fragrant now from their infrequent showers, — Filled ev'ry sense with ecstasy, and strung The harp of song in ev'ry soul ; each tongue, Like golden chords of the iEolian lyre Which tremble into tune when winds inspire, Burst into song with strains as sweet and rare As the rich odors wafted on the air. THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 101 IX. What scenes are these we now are passing through ! What memories wake as they arise to view ! A nation's history from its earliest day These sacred spots to gazing eyes portray : Here have the feet of Abraham once trod From Haran guided by the hand of God ; Here Jacob strayed with neither chart nor path, A fugitive from Esau's righteous wrath : And Lot here tented ere he chose for gain His home among the Cities of the Plain. With sandalled feet old prophets journeyed here ; And here unshod have wandered saint and seer : The hosts of war have trampled down this way, Red-handed Carnage hastened here to slay. A thousand memories press upon the mind, Shapes of the Past, in shadow dim defined, Crowd thick the way, and fill the very air With hosts departed, still in presence there ! X. Of these they speak. What grandly solemn themes ! Who reads their story, reading only, dreams Distorted things which vanish with the light ; But when the scenes burst in upon the sight, And eyes beheld where these their sojourn made, — For scenes remain although remembrance fade, The ways they trod, the camp and altar shown, — Then is the vision to the real grown, Tradition turns her shadowy face, and, lo ! The living truth stands forth in light aglow. XL The day is sped, the westward- sin king Sun Across the circling heavens his course has run ; Behind the rising peaks in misty blue He dips his fiery disc, then slides from view ; Yet, as he lingers, on these haunts of old A benediction pours in showers of gold, — 102 THE STORY OF JUDETH A faint reflection of the blessing shed From God's own hand on patriarchal head : For, just before, the golden sunlight falls On Bethel's white and far-reflecting walls, Where Jacob saw the heavenly brightness gleam A way to heaven which opened in a dream. As from the rising ground our friends behold The scene of that sweet story oft retold, They cry with glad surprise, not at the scene, Though lovely in fair fields and orchards green, But that their eyes delighted gaze upon The sacred source from whence their hope is drawn, The spot where God revealed that Jacob's seed Should be his chosen people, great indeed In power and fame ; and from them, too, should spring The hope of Israel, her conqueror-king. Not all assured is Judeth of the scene, So questions she of days that once have been. XII. JUDETH. What place is this so charming in its view ? The history old, the sight to me is new : Somewhat the story of our land I know, Its scenes of note, altars and shrines also ; My father, learned in all his country's lore, Hath taught me much in lessons oft conned o'er ; And yet how little, in my too few years, On Memory's page from out the Past appears ! Upon that virgin page would you record The buried deeds in misty records stored, While living facts and truths unto us cry That of neglect we should not let them die ? JUDETH. No, both I would secure, since from the dead The living come. MARTHA. Behold, where lies ahead THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 103 A fair, sweet camping-ground ! Our tents, when spread, While we await the meal prepared for us, We will survey the scenes, while Lazarus — For he is versed in all our country's lore — Will tell to us the wondrous history o'er Of this dear spot, a shrine to all our race, To us, I hope, a night's sweet resting-place, Whose dreams shall be the hopes of waking eyes By which we mount in triumph to the skies ! It is most lovely now, as evening's glow Burns softly on the city's walls of snow : The hills beneath the mountains' falling shade, That swiftly darken as the bright rays fade, Give beauty to the scene, and sweetly stir Within the soul of beauty's worshipper : Nor wonder I that Israel alone, With weary head here pillowed on a stone, Filled with the vision of the day's decline, Should dream of Heaven and messengers divine ; For surely to his sad and heavy eyes This well might seem the gates of Paradise ! To which in dreams one bright'ning glance was given, Along the golden way that led to Heaven. But we are at the camp ; the tents now spread, The weary beasts are waiting to be fed ; While mind itself, by grosser wants subdued In my weak flesh, cries out for rest and food. XIII. If it were meet, and there were time and space, To paint the camp, portray the camping-place, A picture fair and fine it would be, drawn By pen or brush at sunset or at dawn, Two points of time that bind with golden bands The radiant world and its dim shadow-lands ! Where lights obscure a softened darkness throws Across the arch where radiant sunshine glows, And tingeing with its shadow earth and sky A thousand hues, and each of varied dye. 104 THE STORY OF JUDETH This we forego, as pressing now our need That with our friends we on our journey speed, Since short the time to loiter or delay, As speeds apace the coming wedding-day. Yet, promise made by Martha, if forgot By her full soon, by Judeth it was not, That Lazarus should tell the tales of old Of this fair land. To this she sought to hold Him to the pledge, not by but for him made : Nor was he vexed in this to be betrayed ; Yet, punishment on Martha to impose For her officious zeal, he sagely chose, By leaving her and Mary, — supper done, — To tell the tale to Judeth all alone ! XIV. The night was beautiful, and softly lay Its silvery robes where burned the golden day ; The moon reclining on the mountain's crest Poured floods of light from out the dreamy west, Until the valley, narrowing to denies, Like sleeping maiden radiant in her smiles, Grew still more beautiful, as filmy mist, A silver veil, dropped o'er the brow it kissed, From eastern slopes that watch above the tide Where distant Jordan's milky waters glide. The tents are pitched within a grove of palm, Whose feathery leaves, now listless in the calm, With inky stains the shimmering white sands dye Where ghostly shadows in black mantles lie. The mountain's crest, a slowly rising cloud, The moon draws closer in its misty shroud ; While voices of the night, so sweetly sad They thrill with pain the hearts that might be glad, Grew hushed and still, while over all there broods The sweetest, saddest of Night's solitudes. On such a night, amid such scenes, they stray ; No shadowy lights across their faces play ; They are too happy for their hearts to feel The shade of sadness with its kisses steal Across the brow or linger in the eye, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 105 A misty vapor from a flood too nigh. They talk, and as they talk is proudly told The wondrous story of the days of old. She questioning, to her in answer made With fitting speech, and colors bright portrayed, He tells the story for each hero meet ; Though charming, we will not his tale repeat, Lest what might please his listener would pall On those who read, or, reading, might know all. XV. He told how Jacob forth to Haran fled, While Esau's hate pursued his steps with dread, With zeal that wrong upon his proud heart burned When he of Isaac's stolen blessing learned. A wanderer here before the face of man, A mark upon him and his brother's ban, At night he lay upon this sacred ground, With sky o'erhead and savage wilds around : He slept the weary sleep of toil and care, Forgetting then that God himself was there, Until the heavens open in a dream, And floods of light divine around him stream, While angels on a golden ladder bear, From clouds descending, blessing to him there. In after years returning here again, An altar reared to witness his domain : So, too, when from the bondage Egypt wrought The promised land the sons of Jacob sought, The tribe of Joseph, favorite son and dear, Pitched their brown tents and made their dwelling here ; While farther on, where Shechem greets the view, The bones of Joseph now are resting, too. And then he told with quickly dark'ning brow, For wrong keeps long the coals of Hate aglow, How Salem's prince the standard of revolt At Shechem raised, with battle's fierce assault Led on his hosts against the feeble son Of Israel's mighty ruler, Solomon. To fix his empire and his sway secure, In selfish greed, and heart through lust impure, 106 THE STORY OF JUDETH At Bethel here and in the coasts of Dan The worship of the golden calf began ; With priests and sacrifice from altars high Whose shameful rites insult a gracious sky, Until Josiah, coming to the throne, Their altars razed and shameless groves cut down, But left the sacred bones of prophets old, Whose mausoleums still their ashes hold. XVI. Here he the story most abruptly closed, For all but they in silent night reposed, While he another tale to her began As old as Adam and begun with man. Shall we, too, listen ? or with night now fold Our robes about us and our dull ears hold, While Zephyrs whisper to the opening flowers, And kiss to blushes all the fragrant bowers ? Who says us nay ? Youth with its burning ear Hangs on our lips the tale we tell to hear ; While blushing maidens with averted face Creep closer still, — with rosy arms embrace Each other, whispering with fragrant breath The words conjectural our lovers saith : Young men, half-conscious, seeming not to care, With wise contempt and cold, indifferent air, Turn half-averted faces, yet with eye And ear well poised to catch the faint reply. And married dames, remembering still the hour When lovers' words for them had magic power, Though now with wisdom bought at later day Their better meaning and their truth might weigh, Still stoop their heads to catch the whispered word, As new to them as if they ne'er had heard. Then all the old, no matter, man or maid, Wife, mother, aunt, together are arrayed, And, as the thoughts of other years inspire, Each seems anew to catch the youthful fire, And eager crowd to hear Love's tale again, Once told to each — and told to some in vain ! The world gives sanction, so we, too, draw near, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 107 With quickened heart and ever-ready ear, To hear the wond'rous tale that is so strange : The voice grows husky and its accents change While he is speaking, bending low his head To her, she lifting questioning face instead. XVII. JUDETH. There is a tale, — I may not know it right, If you so please, tell it to me to-night, — How Jacob, wandering, came upon a well, And what to him from that event befell. I oft have heard, but do not understand — Is not this Jacob's well so near at hand ? LAZARUS. No ; that one was in Haran. Laban's sheep It was his daughter Rachel's task to keep : Here Jacob came, aweary of the way, Drawn by the flocks athirst which waiting lay About the well, for still the sun was high, When Rachel with her father's flock drew nigh. They with the flocks, he, questioning of the maid, To him her father's name and race betrayed ; And so he learned this maiden young and fair Was she he sought, his uncle Laban's heir. Straightway, when they to him the story told, He from the well the stony cover rolled, With his own hands, as strong as they were true, For Rachel's flock the cooling water drew. She, sore surprised, a stranger thus to find With noble heart shown thus in act so kind, — For with the herdsmen she was wont to strive For place among them they refused to give — Inquired his name, and if from journey long ; He, answering in his father's native tongue. Said he her kinsman was, and then declared How largely she of his affections shared, And he had hither come with her to wed. She blushing hears, and hangs her queenly head, While he, in love if ardent^ no adept, 108 TEE STORY OF JUDETH Kissed her, " and lifted up his voice and wept." So runs the tale. JUDETH. Why did he weep, I pray ? LAZARUS. Of that in truth I may not surely say, Save he had lived so long and had not known What pleasure was. JUDETH. And yet so quickly flown ! For those who give and take, not seldom miss The joy ethereal lingering from a kiss. LA.ZARUS. You speak as one who judges, having tried. JUDETH. With you, at least, that charge can be denied, Save as a sister's given. LAZARUS. Ah ! who knows But what that was the source of Jacob's woes ? JUDETH. You leave untold this all-absorbing tale. No matter, it to me is old and stale : A man to win a wife his service hires, — The sentiment, perhaps, the world admires, — But when at last, his time of service done, Another takes, and an uncomely one, By fraud deceived, o'erreached, and played upon, Contempt deserves as one unworthy shown Of woman's love, and careless of his own. XVIII. JUDETH. I know the story now : of Rachel's love It were unjust her faithful heart to prove. THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 109 What was her loss, you men with force maintain, Proved in the end to be for Jacob's gain In two wives for the one, and Rachel, too ! LAZARUS. Well, let that pass ; it nothing has to do With us or ours. JUDETH. Why not ? If in their place We put to test the virtue of our race ? LAZARUS. Between us two it hath no lot nor part, Since heart doth service here to loyal heart : What it commands — desires — we freely give, Since in its peace and love we hope to live. For mine I speak, at least, and hope from thee The same response in answer back to me. JUDETH. How can I tell ? Another Rachel I, And for a Leah you yet may pass me by. XIX. LAZARUS. My Judeth, this is truth, thus more than true The faith it is of Jew bestowed on Jew ; And yet you doubt what all my actions teach With greater force than lies in human speech ; Will you not answer me to-night ? Why haste ? The ripened fruit grows sweeter to slow taste. The poisoned fig, if sparing we partake, Thus sickens, and we shun. LAZARUS. Yet for Love's sake You should believe and trust me. 110 THE STORY OF JUDETH JUDETH. I should not For Love's sake trust. martha (coming forward). This is a lovely spot ! Here I could dwell forever — Judeth ! you ? And Lazarus is watching with you, too ! Ah ! I had all forgotten he should tell The story of this spot remembered well By him. Ah-h-h- ! You have grown chill, I fear, And we had best go in again, my dear. Good night, kind brother ; at the break of day It would be well to hasten on our way. iazarus. Yes, it is well that I her words should heed ; For if our journey makes no better speed Toward Cana than I make toward love, why, then, We all shall miss the wedding ! Once again Has my sheer arrow from the mark flown wide ; Still I in hope the better day abide. XX. Again they start, just at the dawn of day, But we will linger not upon the way, Though ev'ry foot we traverse to us brings Swift mem'ries, hastening on their eager wings To bear us messages from years long fled, The voiceless stories of the sleeping dead. Yet, as we pass, nor camp nor resting-place Shall we more heed as hast'ning pen shall trace Some outlines bold, some scenes long known to fame, Where mem'ry clings or lingers still a name, That yet to man as beacon-lights shall be On rocky cliffs that tower in Time's broad sea. XXI. There Shechem stood, and near it Jacob's well, Nor spot more famed in all of Israel ; THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 111 Mount Gerizim, the Mount of Blessing named, Opposing Ebal, Mount of Cursing famed, Where on each height a choir of readers stood, From this the Evil read, from that the Good, While Israel beheld in awe the scene, Whose waiting hosts the valley fill between. Beyond these westward, toward the midland sea, Samaria, famed for its delivery ; Beyond it Dothan, where Elisha's prayer Revealed the hosts of God encamping there ; Then through the winding pass declining down Behold the lovely plain of Esdraelon, Where flows the Kishon through the winding plain, Hard by whose stream the priests of Baal were slain. Gilboa's heights upon the east appear ; Despairing Saul, self-murdered, perished here, Mad from defeat, which, following fast, befell Just as foretold by risen Samuel, Whose troubled spirit burst imprisoning clay And at a breath blew all his hope away. Then, as we journey on, Mount Tabor's height Cheers with its woods of green the gazing sight, Famed for its beauty and its charming views When Spring the Autumn's purpling dress renews, And Winter, touching but its highest crest, Far Lebanon in icy robes has dress'd, While yet his slopes, in dark and living green With cedar crowned the circling year, are seen. Still at his feet, along the Galilee, The sleeping cities on its shores we see ; And to the westward Esdraelon's vale, Where Sisera fell by the hand of Jael, Where Barak's hosts from Tabor poured their flood, And flowed the Kishon red with Syrian blood, E'en while the vales and smiling hills along Reechoed Barak and Debora's song ! XXII. Still pressing on, and by a winding path We pass beyond the town of Nazareth, Then famous grown for its base turpitude, 112 THE STORY OF JUDETH Now world-renowned for its great gift of good ! Three days from Bethel, closing with the night, And Cana cheers the long-expectant sight ; As sinks the sun adown the glowing west, We slowly wind along the rising crest Where sits the city, nestling like a dove, Crowned where it clings by steeper heights above. XXIII. Why tell of greetings when we all well know What springs of joy from such occasions flow ? Ben Ammi's house that night was glad with mirth, And from its chambers as a flood streams forth Glad strains of music, bridal-chant and song, That on the evening breezes float along ; While gathering in came many a smiling guest In festal garb and for the wedding dress'd, And filled the house, which, as a garden blown, Flamed in rich hues of flowers profusely strown. Ben Ammi's daughter, with her maidens fair As Hebron's lilies, for the rites prepare. Shall we describe her ? Why employ the time, Or waste the value of a worthless rhyme, When all the world the picture erst has seen, Since ev'ry bride for once is Beauty's queen ! But we may not a word, at least, forego, To paint the scene with flowers and smiles aglow ; Bold strokes we give, yet, while they may be few, They are to nature and to beauty true. XXIV. Candace, daughter to Ben Ammi, born Of gentle blood, would any home adorn ; Not born to wealth, yet frugal means supply A generous store, but luxuries deny : So that the costly robe with threads of gold, And flashing gems to charm all who behold ; The golden cincture, coruscating bands To clasp her limbs, and rings to deck her hands ; The golden crown upon her locks that flow, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 113 A rippling sea of dusky waves below ; With silver veil, in threads so finely spun It casts no shadow in the noonday sun, — All these denied, yet in her simple dress Of spotless white could any queen lack less Than she, who thus by grandeur may be scorned, Her jewelled self adorning unadorned ! What more can there be said to add in praise Than this bold picture in itself displays ? Can eyes that glow like stars at dusk of night ? Can floods of hair in inky waves in flight ? Can brow that gleams a spotless crest of snow Beneath which blooming roses gladsome blow ? Can neck as graceful as a swan's at rest, — A column rising from a billowy breast ? Can lips as red as pomegranate cut through, And teeth like seeds of pearl that greet the view ? Can form as graceful as the feathery palm, When gently swaying in the light wind's calm ? Can smile as sweet as heaven's painted morn The farther beauty of the bride adorn ? Then these are hers, and, though divinely sweet, The picture drawn in all is incomplete. XXV. The sun is setting ; on the western sky The golden billows of the evening lie, Reflecting shadows from the upward rays That fill the glowing plain with misty haze Softer than sunlight, yet with added power That gives a golden glory to the hour : And well it may ! for ne'er before came down Such glory here so grand a head to crown ! For, yonder passing up the winding height, Full in the radiance of the lurid light, Is one whom we when on the Jordan's shore With heavenly glory saw enshrined before, — ■ Is one wham we, when Satan from him fled, Saw on the mount with heavenly manna fed ! The Christ draws near ! and heaven and nature glow, While golden sunlight crowns his princely brow ! 114 THE STORY OF JUDETH With him his foll'wers speed the upward way, And mount the topmost height at close of day : Ben Ammi's door swings open as they come, And through it Evening's glory floods the room, Nor ever was an earthly bridal blest With brighter glory and such wedding guest ! XXVI. Before they came, Judeth and Mary, drawn From the fair bride, had to the house-top gone, With other fair and comely maidens, bent, As they, to witness ev'ry hoped event. They talked as only maidens can and do ; Grew rapturous o'er the fair dissolving view : With hands upraised, and eyes with pleasure bright, Gave voice in chorus to the heart's delight A moment, then forgetting, it would seem, That life was real in this golden dream, Yet frail as fair, the shadow speeding fast Across the golden sunburst ere it passed. While yet remembering this the fairest thing, The wedding-song is dying while they sing : That note, it matters not how glad the strain, Or for whom sung, no lips repeat again ! We might give voice to what they thought and said, If something new and charming, but instead, Whoever hears at such a time such speech Needs here no lesson in their arts to teach. XXVII. The scenes around, the beauty of the spot, Were soon by all who viewed alike forgot, Save Judeth, who had drawn somewhat apart, For sober thought with contemplative heart, Her eyes fixed on the steep and winding way, Whose chalky path, a silvery ribbon, lay Far down the hills, where glowed as burnished gold Reflected sunlight o'er the rocky hold ; While Memory, gathering up the slackened thread, Winds back the clue to other hours instead, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 115 And through their misty veil, as light through trees, Remembered faces of the past she sees ; And, shining brightest of the loved and fair Of all the faces she has gathered there, She sees the one, since at the Jordan's tide, Which in her heart has reigned there deified ! A start — a cry ! — now follows her fixed gaze ; Her cheeks grow white, her eyes in fervor blaze ; With rigid hand as that which points the road At crossways set, she in the sunlight stood, Which touches head and hand with generous glow While lies in shadow all the form below, Pointing ad own the way where upward wend Belated guest and home-returning friend. XXVIII. Her cry, her action — for no word she spoke — Upon the ears of her companions broke, Who, rushing where she stood in wild surprise, With eager question and dilating eyes, Gaze where she points, but fail with her to see That which might rouse e'en their curiosity. " What dost thou see ? " is questioned now by one. judeth. The Christ, whom John the Baptist calls God's Son. HUXDAH John Baptist ! What dost thou of that one know ? He cometh not now hither ? If so, show Him unto us. JUDETH. Nay ! him I did not name, Save to declare his saying. To him came, When we were at the Jordan, — HUXDAH. What ! Were you Of those who went his wondrous deeds to view ? 116 THE STORY OF JUDETH JUDETH. Yes : we like others went, and it was strange To see the multitudes ! Each mountain range, The valleys, hills, the desert wastes, the plains, Gave up their hosts entire, till scarce remains, Or did when we came back, throughout our land, One who had failed to visit Jordan's strand. While we were there — and short indeed our stay — There came to him a stranger from this way, To be baptized. This John to him denied, Himself unworthy ; yet into the tide He led him down, and in the milky stream Immersed he him. As they came forth a gleam As bright as the swift lightning filled the air, And blazed along the heavens everywhere ; And while expectant we the thunder wait From out the skies now glowing roseate, There downward sped a milk-white, hovering dove, And sat upon his head : then high above The bending arch a voice like thunder near, Yet soft as whispering Zephyrs to the ear, Spake, saying, " This is my beloved Son, In whom I am well pleased, hear ev'ry one ! " Behold ! That man baptized with Heaven's acclaim, Now hither comes ! I know him as the same. XXIX. MARY. Where ? Which one, Judeth ? Ah ! I now can see His shining face, and it indeed is he ! HULDAH. Which one, I pray, — for many crowd the path, — Is he you say this wondrous glory hath ? JUDETH. He with the golden locks which downward stream, Around whose head the parting splendors gleam, In robe of white fringed deep with band of blue Full bordered round, to mark his lineage true. THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 117 The dress does not distinguish : such is worn By others on the way. He at the turn, "Where juts the chalky cliff out to the path, — The one alone the golden ringlets hath. HULDAH. Not he ! I know him well, if he the one ! He is of Nazareth, and Joseph's son, A lowly carpenter ; and even now His mother waiteth on the guests below, A kinswoman acknowledged of our host. judeth. I may have made mistake, or, at the most, Some semblance, marked, distinctive, may deceive. Call Lazarus, Mary : I cannot believe My eyes misguide me, yet your statements shake My faith in them somewhat. HULDAH. Sometimes we make, When it would seem impossible, mistake, When but to err is folly. So with me. This man our fathers knew from infancy, And we since we have known our mothers, so It now were doubting sight him not to know. JUDETH. I cannot doubt your words, nor yet my eyes ; As he draws near, still greater my surprise : For I have other witness I am right, Since now my heart is seconding my sight, And leaps with heavy throes and fluttering beat At the near footfalls of his coming feet. HULDAH. I am surprised — I cannot understand — Here, Lazarus is waiting your command : Ask him of those approaching. 118 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXX. LAZARUS. I await, My Judeth, your command. JUDETH. Then look and state Whom those are who approach. LAZARUS. A company Advancing up the winding way I see, Bat they seem strangers ev'ry one — But stay ! The foremost of the first who come this way Hath look familiar ! Where hath been By me that form and face so lately seen ? Where hatli it been ? Am I in thought so blind That sight itself should now outrun my mind ? As they approach, a nearer vision throws The light upon them that will soon disclose Both form and feature, and — a glancing beam Which doth through some cleft rock or crevice stream Falls fair upon his face — What ! Judeth, see ! The Christ, the Christ ! I know him now I 't is he ! I know that face, the fairest ever seen — - 'T is strange, yes, wondrous strange ! since he has been To us familiar all these years, that now You should be so mistaken ! Hair and brow, Dress, carriage, all are those of Joseph's son, For such is he that you now look upon : And then you know the proverb old that saith, "No good thing cometh out of Nazareth.'* judeth. I only know what I before have seen, And feel what I have felt. That brow and mien Majestic now to sight and kingly are ; They for themselves the better truth declare ; And if his hands their menial task have done, THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 119 For labor he a nobler name hath won Than kings can win : they consecrate all toil, And princely honor of its jewels spoil, And give to labor now the sovereign's crown. He cometh in ; let us in haste go down ! LAZARUS. Brave heart and true, my Judeth : in the day That trieth us these words shall be my stay. This way ! The marriage now begins, and late We all shall be if we here further wait. XXXI. The wedding-feast proceeds : Architriclin Hath ordered still more wine should be brought in. Dismayed, the servants to Ben Ammi go With message that the wine is running low, And fast is failing now their scanty store, Nor in the town can there be purchased more ! Straightway Ben Ammi to his butler calls, The thought of shame his honest heart appalls : What can be done ? His close and grudging greed Outweighed his honor, saving of his need ; His guests, departing from his ruined feast, Would speak of him but slightingly at least. His kinswoman, Mary of Nazareth, Hearing reproaches, to Ben Ammi saith, " Peace, brother ! and reproach him not ; your good To him is dearer than his richest blood. Your needs he saw and strove to save in vain, Yet what you count as loss shall be your gain. There shall be wine enough and yet to spare. Return within, nor doubting wait it there." XXXII. MARY OF NAZARETH. They have no wine, my son. 120 THE STORY OF JUDETH THE CHRIST. Woman, with thee What have I now to do ? Dost thou not see Mine hour has not yet come ? MART OF NAZARETH. Thy day and hour Are here. THE CHRIST. Not mine. It is my Father's power That worketh in me. If he now declare The day at hand, I will the wine prepare. MARY OP NAZARETH. Demetrius, — Philip, — here ! Now hearken you : Whatever he commandeth see you do. THE CHRIST. Bring here some firkins, all the house contains. DEMETRIUS. We have but six, yet they are large : on rains We here depend for water. THE CHRIST. Take and fill These level to the brim with water. DEMETRIUS. Will These six suffice ? Our water is all spent, But more may still be brought. THE CHRIST. I am content. Now draw from these, nor of their contents spare, And to Architriclin the flagons bear. xxxin. They tap the draught, when, lo ! a ruddy flow Pours its rich flood with foaming beads aglow, And at the touch that marks the hand divine THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CANA 121 The crystal stream flows reddening into wine ! The goblets filled, with pleasure and surprise The guests behold with long-admiring eyes : They taste ; the flavor pleasing still the more, Potations large and liberal they pour ; The vintage they discuss, the brand and vine ; Some to this vineyard, some to that, incline. Though versed in wines through use and years of care, All fail at last its vintage to declare ; Not dreaming that the wine their want supplies Is pure, ambrosial nectar from the skies ! The wine of life, which cheers when looked upon, Fresh from cerulean fountains sparkling drawn. XXXIV. Architriclin, the ruler of the feast, Surprised and pleased at its rich, fragrant taste, When first to him the wondrous draught was brought, Nor dreaming it had been from water wrought, Called forth the bridegroom and to him he saith (His eyes denying his dissembled wrath) : " What mean you, sir, by this deception shown ? Your fault at once to guests deceived now own ! In all my life, and I am full of years, I ne'er have seen what at this board appears ; And here to-night, of all these favored guests, Not one but what at your offence protests." " What have I done ? " the astonished bridegroom cries, His anger checked by his profound surprise. " What have you done ? " the ruler answering back, — From rising laughter force his fierce words lack, — " What have you not, would better you inquire ! " His words have now regained their wonted fire : " No other man, as you have done, would dare." — " I pray you," cried the bridegroom, " further spare Your words and me ! If I a wrong have done, For my offence I will in full atone." " Atone ! " the ruler cried. " That cannot be ; Your crime is one 'gainst Time, not these, or me ! " " 'Gainst Time ? I am content, for well I know That Time will soften and some mercy show, 122 THE STORY OF JUDETH Nor hold me thrall forever. Pray declare To me and these around, — it is but fair, — My grave offence." Architriclin then said : " Now every man his good wine first, instead Of bad, sets forth when he begins his feast, So that when men have drunk their fill, at least So it is thought, they lose perception line, And thus deceives in giving them bad wine. But you reject this rule kept in the past, And keep your best wine even to the last ! " Around the board the merry laughter ran, Anew their cheer the wedding guests began : What heart was there could feel the touch of woe, What soul a sense of fleeting sorrow know, When God's Eternal Son himself was there, To bless with wine and in the feast to share ! XXXV. A time they feast unconscious of the power That wrought its generous blessing on the hour ; So great the deed and startling, that the mind Had doubted sight and thought the eyes grown blind, Had not the witness each the other brought, Convincing answer gave each doubting thought ; While from the vessels they with water filled, The ruby wine its fragrant flood distilled. Slow were they yet the startling truth to tell, For, since they doubted, others may as well. At last low whispers of the wonder wrought Are by the ears of one then others caught ; Then, gathering force, the startling story grew And moved, then thrilled the wond'ring household through. A hundred tongues the hasty story tell, And hold each list'ner by its wondrous spell : The wine is tasted o'er and o'er again, Nor is there lip but tries the test in vain ; The vintage perfect, fruit and spirit fine, Despite the process, still it must be wine ! THE MARRIAGE-FEAST AT CAN A 123 XXXVI. Who wrought the miracle ? the question heard, The answer given greater tumult stirred : They taste again ; some to the jar repair, The servants question, test the vintage there. The proof complete, the source and method sure, Against deceit and witchcraft made secure, Amazement deepens, and the more they try The truth to solve, greater the mystery. " It cannot be ! " one puzzled guest exclaims When his companion deed and doer names : " Why, have we not lived neighbors all his life ? And there his mother, honest Joseph's wife ? Scarce is he known beyond his father's gate, And not for wisdom in his humble state : True, there was rumor once, that in dispute, Before his wisdom priest and sage stood mute, But that was years ago. How oft is found That prattling babes our wisest will astound ! " " While you speak true, yet here is still the wine, And these the witnesses : we must confine Our speech to facts. We knowing him but shows How little man of his own neighbor knows. If he hath wrought this wonder- waking deed, Of which of further proof there is scant need, His be the praise, the glory, the renown, — - The Prophet's mantle and Emanuel's crown." XXXVII. Astonished at the zeal and fervid power Of his companion, quiet till this hour, The first stood mute, while gath'ring round them press'd, With eager haste, full many a wedding guest ; And many tongues speak from the heart's desire, And many bosoms heave with kindling fire. Peter and John and Andrew then disclose What each about his humble Master knows : Strange stories, whispered, run from ear to ear, While lip to lip still spreads the tales they hear. Now Lazarus, the centre of a crowd, 124 THE STORY OF JUDETH With earnest speech and voice unduly loud, Relates the story we before have told, With fervid zeal and manner firm and bold, Of Jordan's scene baptismal, and the flood Of glory blinding all the multitude. When all are done, a hush as deep as death, Save the long sigh and gently sobbing breath, Steals through the hall, and every wedding guest Stands wonder-bound before the truth confessed ; Each eye pursuing with its silent gaze The wondrous beauty of that saddened face Of whom the prophet said, as true as brief, " The man of sorrows and acquaint with grief ! " Whose meek eyes bending to the earthen floor Refuse the homage when they would adore : But, all the while they gaze upon him there, His lips are quivering with a whispered prayer. Delightful scene ! and yet a scene most sad, Where eyes must weep while yet the heart is glad ! XXXVIII. Among the women, as the tale is told, Well may we doubt what e'en the eyes behold ; As Mary, Martha, Judeth, all relate The wondrous story of the Paraclete, At Jordan's flood, when John the Christ proclaimed, And him, their guest, the great Messiah named. Amazed they hear ; and as the glowing scene Their fervid words portray as it had been, Sobs, tears, and cries break in upon their speech, As heart by heart the words convincing reach, Until at last a shout of gladness rings Out on the night, a voice in triumph sings, And startles Judeth as she hears the strain Remembered, as on Jordan sung. Again Their voices, clearing from the sound of tears, Catch up the chorus that the burden, bears, And on that night once more are heard the notes Whose echo yet adown the ages floats, Still sweeping out o'er land and over sea, The world's great anthem in its jubilee ! WITHIN THE SHADOW 125 XXXIX. Why further tell the story of this night, That sweetens sorrow with a brief delight ? The tale is one too old, yet ever new, That we should further in its scenes pursue. The guests, some tarry for the morning dawn, And some e'en with the midnight hour have gone : Thus we, departing, out of life must go, Some out to light and joy and some to woe. Our friends, though ling'ring for a little day, Soon turn their footsteps to the homeward way : Their route obscure we leave them to pursue, Though fair the scenes, now unrecorded through, Though converse sweet, and scenes of beauty rare, Beguile the way and charm away all care, Until the safe return brings them again, From Galilee through Jordan's charming plain, To Bethany, where they once more may meet The welcomes warm which will their coming greet ; There, for a time, we draw the misty veil, And leave to silence the unwritten tale. CANTO SIXTH. WITHIN THE SHADOW. I. JUDETH. Once more upon the mount, and for the last : Can it be true that two long years have passed, And growing in the third, since on that morn We last stood here together ! LAZARUS. Now in scorn The sun shines on us, and the morning light Has more of shadow in it than the night, Because my heart is darkened. What a change One short hour makes, and everything seems strange ! 126 THE STORY OF JUDETH How lightly beat my heart when on the path We started here this morning ! Martha saith, — It is a wisdom of her prudent heart, — " When smiles the morn, at eve our joys depart ! " Such is the truth with me. JUDETH. Who could foretell This killing blow before it crushing fell ? To think ! through all these years approving smile Should in our bright'ning pathway still beguile, Until it led to where the narrow track Forbid the hope that we might still turn back, And then the stern and life-dissolving word Cuts 'twixt us two like a dividing sword, And Love lies bleeding where we fall apart ! Thy servant surely hath a gentle heart ; With such a message brought, he would allow That we should stay a half hour longer now. JUDETH. He has, and gentle as a woman's. Haste We now our talk, we have no time to waste ; For when, at yonder darkly frowning stone Where he awaits, I leave you there alone, Who then can set a meeting ? LAZARUS. What said he, - What the message sent ? JUDETH. Here, read and see. II. lazakus {reading). " Judeth, my daughter, blessed in thy name, I hear strange rumors that our faith doth shame They are that thy sweet friends (God pity lend WITHIN THE SHADOW 127 That curse so dark should light upon a friend !) Have joined a sect they call the Nazarenes : I know not well just what that title means, But they are followers of one who came From out that city bearing evil fame. Withdraw yourself from them, and straightway come In most convenient speed with Haddan home. Let partings, too, be short : the breach now made Is final. See in love I am obeyed. Your father, " Rahab, " Ruler at the Gate." This is to us the very gall of fate, And leaves us helpless, save the hand of Time May soften as it sows his locks with rime. JUDETH. Yet we will hope : my promise, made at last, I will with equal zeal and truth hold fast ; For, while it lingered as you pressed me on Long after that to you my heart had gone, I came reluctant, not for lack of love, But that your heart I would still further prove : So shall it stand firm-rooted as this rock, Nor yield, as this may, to the earthquake's shock. Bestowed, 't is yours, I cannot call it back ; Though friends forsake and foes apply the rack, My love is gone : if yours to me as true, Then we for love will fight the battle through ; And should Hope fail, why then let us be brave ; They cannot rob us of a common grave ! III. LAZARUS. How bravely said, my Judeth ! This repays A thousand-fold the long, unhappy days I hung 'twixt hope and fear upon each word I from your lips, in doubt, expectant heard, Until last eve your answer came, and brought The joy I had so long and madly sought. 128 TEE STORY OF JUDETH And in that hour I drank as sweet a draught As e'er by lip from spring immortal quaffed ; Sweeter and richer in its cheer divine To me than Cana's consecrated wine ! And now a hand as dear to me as can The hand of man be to his fellow-man, At one rude stroke strikes down the cup, and, lo ! From shattered fragments bitter waters flow ! And yet your words make sweet the poisoned flood, As sins grow white through the atoning blood. Your love makes sacrifice for me and mine ; Its answering fires around Hope's altar shine : As you to me I to my pledge stand fast While life shall warm, and mind and reason last ; And yet my heart as yours is not so brave, Since I to meet you look beyond the grave ! The grave ? Beyond the grave ? I had not thought, As now I think, of that long-hallowed spot : A place so welcome, peaceful, silent, where We lose in rest all sense of pain and care ; A place where hearts desponding there may come As some sick child unto its waiting home : A place where age and want — the journey done — With youth and wealth at last may be at one ! No matter there how fierce the adverse wind, No broken tile in sheltering roof can find. Beyond its portals never ranged my sight, Since where I looked lay one eternal night ! IV. LAZARUS. Hath not the new faith taught, some glimmer thrown, To light the darkness settled on your own ? JUDETH. The grave ! What is it ? Is eternal sleep The only recompense for those who weep ? He saith not so, the Master, whom I love, And whom my ev'ry thought and word approve. WITHIN THE SHADOW 129 If I accept him and his faith in part, I am but false in a divided heart ; And yet I have been taught a creed that scouts Eternal life, and laughs at him who doubts. But now the warming truth of hope I feel, As its sweet whispers to my dull ears steal, Through love awake, which sees that nought is left To it when we are here of life bereft, Since stern decree no promise gives that life Shall deck me ever with the crown of wife, While cold and clammy the embrace and breath Of bridegroom given at the hand of Death ! LAZARUS. You freeze my veins at the detested thought ! The very picture hath within it wrought A horror I would fly. You make the tomb An endless torture of eternal gloom ; I, with my faith, flash hope upon the night, And all its chambers are a flood of light ! Come, look within ; the curtains lift, and gaze Into eternal realms of golden days. I will attempt, my Lazarus, and pray That to this light my Master lead the way ; Since for his sake, his truth, I now must be Forever separate from him and thee. But now my hour is up. O golden days ! Grown misty in my tears' unbidden haze, Back to your light will look, as soon my race, In exile dreaming of this hallowed place, Shall gaze upon the Holy City there, Of all the earth the place to them most fair. And as to me this hour, so shall their home Unto my wand'ring people soon become. The foe is at our gates, the citadel To heathen hands long since in weakness fell : The inarch of hostile feet upon my ear In thund'rous tread along the hills I hear ; 130 THE STORY OF JUDETH His camp-fires gleam from mountain-top and plain, Presaging rapine and its horrid reign. From this I turn to bid you all adieu, Ye charming scenes that brighten on my view : Though I from you may pine in hateful thrall, Your pictures bright hang thick on Memory's wall ; No hand can mar you, and no bolt can slide In prison-door and all your freshness hide. Your sweetest charm is still my joy to tell, And, since I take you with me, will not say farewell ! VI. My Lazarus, I would it were as true, And that I might not say farewell to you : But this is not our lot. Is hope, too, vain ? How does it answer, " Shall we meet again ? " I cannot see beyond the rayless gloom That lies this side and falls beyond the tomb. But there is still one thing I know : my heart, Bleeding, you take with you when we shall part ; For you it lies in love forever slain, I cannot call it back to life again ! Will you be patient with me in this hour? The storm is spent when lightly falls the shower ; But when the drouth has parched the fertile plain The clouds but mock us with the breath of rain, And, though the Earth cries out in mortal pain, The Heavens their mists its thirsty lips refuse, And the hot air withholds the generous dews. So are my cries to deaf, unfeeling ears, And my hot heart denies mine eyes their tears ! LAZARUS. Be patient with you ! Adonai teach Me patience strong as I am weak in speech : It falters, fails, and dies at every word ! that my love were now a flaming sword, That it might hew all opposition down, As conquerors cleave their way to earthly crown ! Your heart my kingdom, in it there to reign 1 would risk all. WITHIN TIIE SHADOW 131 VII. JUDETH. I said my heart lies slain By Love, and now is prostrate at your feet, You reign in it and over it complete. No hand can wrest it from you, and no power Can change or turn it from you evermore. But I must haste ! How swift the time has flown, And Haddan now has long impatient grown. If I could on this mount forever dwell With you apart, — might never say farewell, — How gladly would I linger till the gray From these dusk locks had chased the night away ! Were we to part but soon to meet again, I might defer the sharp and bitter pain ; But now ! what matters it if go or stay, If to your bosom prest, or on the way To Love's long exile, nevermore again Back to your arms escaping from the chain ! My smiles are bitterer to you than tears, Your smile to me a mockery appears ! Oh ! let us part ! How can I linger on When hope forever from my heart has gone ? And yet, and yet I turn again and turn ; I feel your bleeding heart still for me yearn, And reaching out blind hands afresh I cry That I may still within your bosom lie ! VIII. I cannot speak ! Let all of my past years This bitter guerdon of my many tears, Let all my heart, let all my nature, prove The wondrous fervor of my voiceless love, Which, choked by grief, in trembling silence stands, And reaches out to you imploring hands ! I cannot say farewell ! I pray you go With feet so silent that I may not know Of their departure ; then that quivering kiss While these lips breathe they nevermore shall miss : 132 TEE STORY OF JUDETH A sacred seal, it rests there with a vow Which from all lips forever parts mine now ! life of my best life ! from thee is drawn Its glory, as the day its hues from Dawn ! Do not depart just yet ! Reach back your hand And clasp my ringers, 't is my last command : Why still withhold ? What ! and is she now gone Without a further word ? Up ! follow on ! We must some plan for meeting now devise, Some way to write to baffle cunning eyes. 1 had not thought my foolish speech she heard, Or she would ready take me at my word ! The way lies clear along the dusty road, Where floats in gray their dust-departing cloud, And I, too late, pursue upon the track Of feet which at my call will not turn back. And yet what matters it, now she is gone, Since in this way no more could we live on ! A bitter draught were better drunk in haste ; While we delay we linger o'er the taste. IX. Within a mansion near the western gate, — • No palace wrought for lord of high estate, But generous in its comfort and design, Nor scant its fittings nor unseemly fine, — We enter now by invitation kind A friend familiar once again to find. Now, as we pass beyond the entrance-door, With hasty glance let us this home explore. Beyond a court, where all the household care With fowls and beasts the spacious courtyard share ; From this, divided by a narrow wall Which shut the garden from the sight of all, Was seen a bower, for such was it in size, A feast entrancing to admiring eyes : There, in the centre of a leafy shade, A cooling fountain in the sunlight played ; Around it, glowing in their tropic bloom, A wealth of flowers in color and perfume. The aloe here and balm now scent the air ; WITHIN THE SHADOW 133 The bay and box-tree deck the borders there ; While myrtle twines its branches vivid green, With oleanders flashing bright between. The rose of Sharon and the lily fair The inner circle of the fountain share ; While flowers of Rimmon and its russet fruit The garden's beauty and its wealth dispute. X. From these we pass, and turning to the stair To mount to upper chambers we prepare : The marble steps, a short and winding flight, Gleam as the snow in their unspotted white ; A sacrilege to household deities It seems to set unholy foot on these. But we ascend, the upper porch invade ; A terraced hall shut in by balustrade, Whose sheltering eaves and awnings many-hued Shut out the sun, or give his light subdued. From this the chambers of the household lead, Through archways curtained just to suit their need ; Dim niches wid'ning in the dusky light, Great doors with panels carved and gilding bright, Well-stanchioned walls and tessellated floors, The strength and beauty of the home secures. We tarry not, but hasten to the door Which stands ajar invitingly before, From which low voices heard in broken speech In fitful murmurs scarce the list'ner reach. We pass within just as a gentle wind Blows wide the door but carelessly confined ; Our presence mingling with diffusive air The breeze they think alone has entered there. XI. Here curtained windows draped in varied hue The light subdued, as, softly sifting through, Floods all the room, and makes the outer day In contrast seem a cold and cheerless gray. Rich rugs from Smyrna ; purples, too^ from Tyre ; 134 THE STORY OF JUDETH Damascus lends its hues of gold and fire ; Elam's famed woods and Gilead's fragrant fir, Lebanon's cedars, ebony from Ur, Inwrought with flowers and carved in rich design, In mirrored polish in the soft light shine : A wilderness of beauty, yet a bower That hath no songster and a single flower ! XII. We heard soft voices as we entered, now We gaze upon the speakers. One fair brow, Though bent so low the face is scarcely shown, To us, though sadly altered, still is known. A silken robe of pattern rich and rare, Shows still her taste in what best suits to wear ; The jewelled throat, the thin and bloodless hand, The tender heart of pity now command ; While faded face and dark and dreamy eye Show sorrow passing that will not pass by, And tears unshed that at the surface lie. The languid motion of the drooping form, Which bends as if upon it beat the storm Which long has swept, is sweeping still, that breast With waves whose tossings nevermore find rest ; Shows now a wreck, such as the stormy sea In painted boat, which rode the waters free In calm and sun, by storm at last despoiled, Drives fast ashore upon the breakers wild. And this fair Judeth ! We can ne'er forget Her lovely face last seen on Olivet : How could we dream a thing so wondrous strange That days so few could make so great a change ! XIII. But hush ! again she speaks. We had not seen Him whom to her companion there had been, Until addressed, nor shall our story now Wait but a word, and this we must allow. He was a man, a Jew, and full of years, As from his snowy beard and hair appears : WITHIN THE SHADOW 135 His brow is broad, low, wrinkled, knit, and stern ; Receding sharply, bald his crown. You learn Much from the shape of head, the masters teach, But more from eye, from gesture, mode of speech. Both have we here, with form not slightly bent, As if on earth his mind was most intent ; His shrunken limbs were clothed in silken gown, And in its folds his hands lay shrunk and brown : Such is the man in look and in attire, And such old Rahab, Judeth's doting sire. Now what the world in truth may of him say, Which meets and grapples with him ev'ry day, One thing, no matter how he shows his heart, His love is natural, and in it no art ! And should he kill her she must needs but know The hand that loved in love but dealt the blow ! How this can be, when from effect to cause We trace this truth through Nature in her laws, Our reason gives no answer ; all we see And know is that they are, not why they be. To him she speaks, and speaking lifts her face Pathetic in its sweet and simple grace. XIV. JUDETH. I have still but one answer, one alone ; When that is made, my plea and speech are done. If there can naught abate, can nothing move You in the name of pity and of love, Then let us cease ; you, me to make forget, And I with you to plead for mercy yet. I die each day a death that in the night Moves but a short space on with morning's light ; And yet as surely as the shadows run Around the dial with the wheeling sun, So sure the sands of life are running fast, And each grain dropping hastens to the last. I cannot check their course : if you will place Upon my silken vest your sidelong face, And there await with close and listening ear, The dripping of my heart's blood you will hear, 136 THE STORY OF JUDETH For through this wound its richest flood is shed, Which now runs low in thin and purple thread. If you had rather see that stream run dry In this slow death, as day by day I die, Then be it so. ; if rather I should live, Recall your curse and Lazarus forgive. BAHAB That Nazarene ! The tomb would be more kind Than bonds of troth which you to him should bind. Because I love you thus, I would you save ; His arms are far more cruel than the grave ! XV. JUDETH. They are so now, or to my heart appear, Since to my arms the grave lies very near, And in it is, to this o'erburdened breast, The promised sweetness of untroubled rest, While far beyond its darkened portals glows A Heaven where no cruel hands oppose. Judeth, my daughter, cease this foolish speech ! My curse upon the hearts such folly teach ! High time indeed was it that I recall You from the folly of such maddening thrall ! To think the last of all my generous line, Whose tenets still our crowning glory shine, Should all forget, — my teaching, too, forego, And follow leaders in a creed so low Its birthplace reeks infectious with a name That honest lips refuse to speak for shame ! Nay ! nay ! A thousand times I still must say, And to your latest breath will answer, Nay ! XVI. JUDETH. That ends my plea ; but for that Teacher's sake Their best defence my stammering lips shall make, WITHIN THE SHADOW 137 Nor you, though cruel, dare not me deny : You taught me truth and know they cannot lie ! What I have seen the pledge of truth my word, Nor here relate what I from others heard. At Cana's feast I saw his power divine Change crystal water into ruby wine : At Jordan's stream I saw from clouds above Shekinah's fire, descending like a dove, Rest on his head and burn, a kindling flame, And all around irradiant became ! And at Capernaum of Galilee, That city nestling by its inland sea, Where we in sojourn passed delightful time In listening to the Master's words sublime, In one short day three miracles he wrought On souls despairing that his mercy sought. Of these three, two occurred before my eyes, And filled the gaping throng with mute surprise. The first a woman, haggard, pale, and lean, From abscess dying, and by law unclean ; She pressed upon the throng where he passed by, With eager haste, hope burning in her eye, And touched the 'broidered blue of his short stole, And in an instant was made pure and whole ! Two blind I saw, beyond physician's might, Both at his touch receive anew their sight. Man's skill, his magic spells, deceptive art, In work like this might do the whole or part, But one thing which he wrought upon that day No man dare answer for it in that way. Jairus, ruler such as thou art, there A daughter had most comely, young, and fair ; Seized by a mortal sickness skill defies, Before the Master could be called she dies. I saw her in the throes of mortal pain. If she died not, Death ne'er shall kill again ; And yet (this I saw .not) when Jesus spoke, From out that death as from a sleep she woke ! But this I saw, — her living, sound and well, Without a trace of sickness left to tell Of wasting fever and the days of pain When at his touch she was restored again. 138 THE STORY OF JUDETH XVII. RAHAB. There, that will do, my daughter ! This long strain Has weakened vitals and distorted brain Until your vision changes desert sands Of Fancy's realms into enchanted lands. Oh ! what have I now done, what fatal deed ? The voice of those who warned 1 would not heed Until too late. I fear the fatal draught Of this stark madness has been surely quaffed. JUDETH. My father, what you hear you still refuse, And of my fancied madness make excuse ; For, save for this, my tale you must believe : Too well you know my lips would not deceive. Like that proud city where these works were wrought Who saw, confessed", and then received him not, So you reject the truth, my word deny, And through the lack of reason make me lie. How weak the pretext ! Nought such plea avails, And to convince yourself it wholly fails : So nothing more have I to answer now, Since to me reason you will not allow. RAHAB. Peace, child ! In love and sorrow I command : Its loss, if lost, is charged not to my hand. JUDETH. Father, will you yet hear and grant one prayer ? It is the last I make to you. RAHAB. To spare You pain, and if in sparing I can please, Ask, — nay, command : I grant you such as these. WITHIN THE SHADOW 139 XVIII. JUDETH. Nay, it will turn my pain to pleasure : this It is, and nothing I can see amiss In granting it. Our cousin Martha you Most surely know is wrought of caution : true She is what you now call a Nazarene, — ■ And say by it you know not what you mean, — No matter : what I want is this, no more ; Now, I was wrested almost from her door, And left scant time to say a brief farewell, — No word of explanation. I would tell Her something of the cause. Six moons or so, And not a word since then between us, who Scarce any week, in all these years gone by, Sent not a letter and received reply. This is the prayer by love to love preferred : To her I now would write, if but a word, — A simple greeting love from me must claim, — And underneath it simply write my name. Kequest most simple ! nor will I confine Your letter to one simple written line : Write all you wish, save that you nothing say Of this new — something, call it what you may ; Nor write to Lazarus, nor of him speak. I trust your truth ; command you will not break There, child, just see how easy 't is to please ! Yes, father, in such little things as these : But then I am content. The day is warm, And I must sleep ere I this task perform — You are not gone ? If you anon can spare, Send Haddan hither. Kiss me ; softly, there ! I now would woo coy Sleep, whose heavy wings To these sad eyes no soothing solace brings ! I will be true in his firm faith in me, But oh how hard, how hard the task will be ! If I can sleep one little, shortened hour, It then may be that hope will cheer once more. 140 THE STORY OF JUDETH XIX. The evening shadows from Mount Olivet Fall over Bethany ere sun is set ; Now through their deep'ning shades that trail along There came, with night's ever-returning throng, A messenger to Martha's open door, And in his hand a written missive bore : 'T was Haddan ; and in low obeisance bent He gave to her the letter Judeth sent ; And as he gave would then have turned away To journey back, had she not bade him stay. Stay, Haddan ! haste not from us to depart, For weary somewhat journeying thou art : A cup of wine, some figs, I pray, partake, For your kind care in this, for Judeth's sake ; Pray go you in ; a servant to the stall Will lead your beast and there await your call. HADDAN. I may not tarry : Rahab gave command That when I gare this letter in your hand I should return straightway. MARTHA. A breath at least From dust and heat is due to man and beast. HADDAN. Well, as you will : I am content to do In this affair what seemeth best to you. MARTHA. Stay ! just a word : how doth our Judeth seem ? Like one asleep and walking in a dream J She answers all we ask ; talks some, and yet Her eyes remain for hours with sad gaze set On nothing, while her face is white and thin, Her robes so loose that two could get within. WITHIN THE SHADOW 141 MARTHA. What of an answer back ? HADDAN. Just at the gate She touched my sleeve, and said for me to wait And bring what answer you saw fit to give. MARTHA. You will await its writing ? HADDAN. Yes. XX. MARTHA. Long live You and your children ! Pray you walk within ; Your wine awaits : to write I must begin. Here, Mary ! Lazarus ! hasten ! Haddan brings Love's own sweet message on his snowy wings. 'T is Judeth sends it, but to me : yet all May catch some fragrance as its sweet dews fall. A letter ? And from Judeth ? Who hath brought ? 'T is passing strange that she of us has thought ! Hush, Mary ! I but now believed that you Had learned humility both deep and true. MARY. I have at his dear feet bowed low, but yet The old rebellious heart makes me forget. LAZARUS. Enough ! Let us now hear the letter read. That is her hand, but weak and faint, instead Of her strong characters. 142 THE STORY OF JUDETH martha (reading). " My dear beloved, The love of God, or pity else, has moved My father, that he gives me leave to write. Until this hour, since on that hateful night I entered here from you just snatched away, No word would he allow nor letter. Nay ! Beyond these walls my feet have never gone, And all the faces I have looked upon Were father's, Haddan's, and my maid's. No word Beyond what they would bring me have I heard, — No syllable of you nor of the Cause. But writing of this further I must pause : He has forbidden it. But I may tell How I do love you all so true and well ; How ev'ry day, how every separate hour, Your love, your kindness, do my thoughts devour. And in the silence of my chamber here, I can but think that you are very near ! And when the wind sighs in its sweetest moans, The sounds half-syllable your very tones. And where the lamplight darkly wavering falls, I see your shadowy faces on the walls ! XXI. u You are so near to me, at morn I miss From off my lips your nightly honeyed kiss ; And yet I 've felt it there to me so plain That I reached out my hands to you in vain, — You were a shadowy vision ! Oft I see Beside the blue-tinged billows of the Galilee The Master — There ! that line blot with a tear ; It came before I thought, from memories dear. I have grown thin since last you saw me ; this Because I am kept in : my walks I miss, And the long climbs up on Mount Olivet — Its radiant glory, how can I forget ! And its fair scenes and — I must hush my heart And let those days in silence now depart ! Oh, how I love them, Martha ! them and you ! You must not think your Judeth's heart untrue ; WITHIN THE SHADOW 143 It is so true it has grown sick without You : if of that you could have smallest doubt, The thought would shame you, could you now but see The fading shadow that responds for me. I passed my mirror — accidental now — And saw reflected there both form and brow, And thought it was some ghostly stranger guest, Who by mischance was in my garments dressed, And would have spoken it as such instead ; But at my smile the strange delusion fled, And left a mask in place still standing there, That had my eyes, my teeth, and dusky hair ! If you could touch me with your hand, — could kiss My lips, — I know your power would equal his Who raised Jairus' daughter — there ! again My thoughts reflect that written on the brain. But I must cease, though scarce begun to write, And bid you all a long and fond good-night ! Send by the hand of Haddan message back, And let your letter nought of interest lack ; Since, strangely as it seems, my father did Not message back from you to me forbid, — ■ Nor from another, if such choose to send, — And if, beside you, yet I have a friend. At least from you I shall expect reply : But I must cease this letter now. Good-by ! Since Haddan doth me patiently await, And I would meet him with this at the gate. Thy sister, Judeth, kisses this to thee ! " XXII. LAZABUS. And not a word in it to or of me ! I have a letter written long, — would send It to her, if I thought 't would not offend : Would Haddan carry it ? BOTH. And pray, why not ? You heard his interdict. 144 THE STORY OF JUDETH LAZARUS True ! I forgot, And I will haste, and, as you women do, Will send it all and add a postscript, too ! But we must write at once, for Had dan kind, In his return should not be kept behind. XXIII. The letters done, and Haddan through his wine, Just as the last hot rays of evening shine On Nebo's crest beyond the silent sea, He mounts and rides, with heart both light and free, Back to the city, whose still-open gate Will not upon his loitering footsteps wait. All watch him start, and many greetings go With him to her who waits for him below In that fair home, in all its wealth possessed, That hath no spot in which her heart finds rest. He brings her Martha's letter : if he bore Within his sash another letter more, No eye has seen it ; even his were blind To aught like this, just as his heart was kind. And more : he carried with him not unknown The sorrows of that home which now had flown ; While in each heart a singing bird now sung Its song of joy with notes from silvery tongue ! XXIV. The lamps are lighted in old Rahab's home, And hast'ning footsteps hither go and come : The beasts and fowls inconstant clamor keep As one by one they settle into sleep. From out the garden, flashing still with bloom, Floats through the house a faint but sweet perfume : Rest settles down with shadows of the night, And Care prepares to wing her silent flight. Now Judeth, restless of the long delay That follows on kind Haddan's lengthened stay, — Forgetful that the hour's delay to meet May make the hour of meeting doubly sweet, — WITHIN THE SHADOW 145 Glides from her room and through the trellised hall, A shrinking ghost that hugs the shelt'ring wall, Down the stone stair which to the garden led, Nor Night more silent than her hast'ning tread : There, as she passes by the inner wall, Behind she hears a voice as softly call As night-bird's cooing ; turning, face to face, Meets Haddan there within the shadowy place. No word he utters, but her fingers clasp Some object slipping from his ling'ring grasp : " Go to your room," he whispers, " his command, That he the answer bear in his own hand." XXV. Back through the dusk with eager feet she fled, No echo whisp'ring of her coming tread : With breath hard drawn she urged her eager flight, While her loud heart-beats startle the still night. Ent'ring within, the lamplight's softened glow Shows a rich flush on upturned cheek and brow, As she, with hard-clasped hands and thankful prayer, Holds in them the dear message hidden there. She has not read, indeed she does not know If in it be the words of joy or woe : Nor yet by word or look has she been told If aught within the parchment pages hold. She knows instinctive — that is woman's pow'r, Her strength and refuge in the trying hour — That Lazarus sends it ; that her fingers clutch What is to her made sacred by his touch. She does not open — nay, she did not look Upon it, while her fragile fingers shook With eager haste from sound of coming feet, As they the crumpled parchment now secrete Within her bosom's snowy depths to lie Secure from closest search and prying eye : While ghastly pallor spreads from cheek to brow, So richly flushed with blushes until now ; From head to foot she shivers with a chill, As one grown sick from grave and sudden ill. 146 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXVI. Her father enters at her low command, But him to welcome she can hardly stand ; He sees her ashen face and trembling limbs, Her eye unsteady, that dilating swims In its deep socket, half engulfed in tears, The two fold witness of her joys and fears. Pained in her looks such weakness to behold, His eager fears make him unseemly bold To haste to her with quick, impetuous stride, His fear o'ercoming now his haughty pride ; And to the winds his studied sternness flies As with alarm, all else forgetting, cries, RAHAB. What ails thee, daughter ? What of care or pain ? The body's weakness or the troubled brain ? If these oppress thy heart, their pangs endure, And in this parchment find for them a cure. Here is the answer, Martha — noble friend — Doth to thy loving letter in love send : It came unsealed, inviting me to read, Of which, had I suspicion, was no need ; And so I thank her, — in your answer say As much, — and send it back the coming day, If it so please you. Kiss me now good-night ; I leave you with your friend and dreams more bright. Thanks, dearest father ! you have made me glad ; With such kind friends I should no more be sad. So he approves her letter ! I will see If his approval is approved by me. XXVII. judeth {reading). " Bethany, Abib, second month and year : Dear Judeth, — and to me you are most dear, — At Haddan's hand — God give his soul sweet peace ! Your kindly letter I received, and these WITHIN THE SHADOW 147 Most hurried lines, it please, Mary and I, By his returning hand, send in reply. Your saddened parting gave us all great pain, But this your letter makes to us quite plain, And the occasion ; so that all the more We love you, dearest, — better than before, If that could be ! We miss you from our home And hearts, and hope and pray the day will come — May God speed on its hours ! — when once again We make one household, you in it to reign. We are all well to-day ; but housewife cares Somewhat upon my frugal patience wears. Since Mary has grown zealous in the Cause, And somewhat from me needed help withdraws. I said we all were well : I spoke too fast ; My brother has for months appeared downcast, — A kind of weakening in a general way, But little ailing, save that for a day Or two he hath grown feeble like and weak, But nothing serious, as I may speak. I ofttimes think of those times past when we Went down to Jordan and the Galilee ; Do you remember, should I ask ? and yet How many learn such lessons to forget ! But, speaking of these times, I would recall One thing that happened, — let it speak for all, — When down in Galilee, you know, at Nain, The Master raised the widow's son. Again We saw and talked with him, and strange the tales He tells of what he saw. My credence fails, They are so wonderful ! And they relate That, of the blind man at the eastern gate Who sat and begged, — blind from his infancy, — You know him, and have passed him oft with me, And gave an alms at every asking — well, The case is wonderful of him they tell. I did not see it, but the Pharisees About its spreading fame are ill at ease. That he was blind I know, and so do you, And that he sees is known now to be true Throughout the city. Now but one thing more, — Of this I should have spoken just before. 148 THE STORY OF JUDETH The Master supped with us since you were here, And Mary was content to leave the cheer And household duties to my care, and seat Herself — the careless child — at Jesus' feet ! I did protest — I know I may have been Somewhat impatient ; yet I did not mean To be — that she should aid me with the cares And vexing duties of the house affairs. You know how trying oft that such things be, When all the house is filled with company. She looked so innocent — God bless her life ! — It seems a sin that she should taste of strife ; And then the Master, lifting up his head, And smiling as he did so, gently said : ' O Martha, Martha, thou of many things Dost trouble make ; know that but one thing brings Thee rest : as Mary has, choose that to-day, The one good thing which naught can take away.' fie ! There, Hacldan calls ; his figs and wine — Light fare to guests, and they will lightly dine — Are finished, and he would away, while I Have just begun to write ! Well, please reply At your first day, if that day be to-morrow : Each day's neglect is but an added sorrow. Your friend in love, " Martha." XXVIII. JUDETH. She much imparts Of news to me, and shows the loving hearts Her home doth hold for me. Ah ! what is this My careless eye would now so nearly miss ? A postscript ! Well, they say a woman's letter Is not complete without it. All the better, For in it are the sweets. No, 't is a line With hurried pen, and hand both weak and fine, From Mary, added in a hasty scrawl So dim it scarcely can be read at all. " Dear Judeth, on this closely written page 1 find a vacant corner I engage WITHIN THE SHADOW 149 To write a line while Haddan waits. Be strong, For it is better far, we suffer wrong Than do it. Know my love and his are true : We pray, we think, we live and work, for you ; Your cause is ours : the Master bids you stand, Nor fails the cause that resteth in his hand ! To further write ill with my mood accords, And struggling thought drown in a sea of words. Your sister, " Mary." Thanks, a hundred times ! Those words to me are as the sweet bells' chimes, That tinkle at the High Priest's feet, with smell Of incense offered breathing prayer as well ! O sweet heart-sisters, how your words do still The tempest in this bosom, — softly fill Its sighing chambers with a calm, sweet peace, Like Galilee when its loud ravings cease ! XXIX. But here lies on my heart still one more weight That I must lift, for in it lies my fate. Have I deceived ? Am I a recreant grown, That e'en his love would blush to know and own ? He is deceived : bear I a guilty part ? Shall me my conscience judge or shall my heart ? Both, and their judgment here I will abide ; Whatever they decree Love shall decide. Love's sweet messenger! on thy wings What new delights this speaking missive brings ! 1 clasp thee to my heart, and fondly cling To thy sure promise, faith's best offering ; And wait and pause, until the time complete, Anticipation drinking ev'ry sweet. There ! I will read, and, eyes, let loose your springs ; Joy, plume for flight your highest-soaring wings ; Cheeks wreathed in lilies, bloom in rose once more ; And, lips, resume your smiles so bright before ; While I now drink with heart of thirsting pain From the sweet spring which Love has found again. But stay, the door ! I would not curious eye 150 THE STORY OF JUDETH Upon my love's sweet message now would spy : There, now all 's safe. Ha ! Does the polished steel The joy which fills my heart, unconscious, feel ? It gleams and burns, and o'er my form and face Throws back in smiles its truth-repeating rays. Well may you smile, my old familiar friend, To know my tears and sadness have an end ; For all these moons, since my return, when seen, Bathed in a flood of tears my face has been. XXX. Sweet messenger ! Uncertain yet, I hold Your snowy wings and kiss you fold by fold, As if my lips that thus you fondly greet Can taste within, the dainty, hidden sweet. I now unfold ; the softly rustling leaf Would cheat my ear with a sweet, vague belief That from the breath he breathed upon each word A whispering echo in each one is heard ! Now I can read — stay ! what is this ? The date Is Chislu ! This is Abib : separate So long ? And yet to me it doth appear That ev'ry month hath been a dreary year ! And he hath written, waiting, hoping on, To reach me with it all this time now gone ! (Beads.) " Dear Judeth, how your cheering smile I miss ! And yet my lips glow with your parting kiss : But just to think ! it has been o'er a week Since I have seen you, or have heard you speak ! The sun hath lost its brightness, and the skies Are dull and leaden to my hopeless eyes. I could have borne this better, — could now bear The heavy burden, did you not, too, share : That is the load which deepens all my grief, Since what I bear to you brings no relief. I daily walk out to Mount Olivet, But find there nothing for me but regret. You know we thought the views were beautiful ; Now suddenly they have grown tame and dull. WITHIN THE SHADOW 151 Two scenes there are that I can look upon And find no vestige of their beauty gone. One is Jerusalem, for thou art there, And thoughts of thee still keep it fresh and fair ; The other Bethlehem, of nothing shorn, Since Christ, our dearest friend, was in it born. Judeth ! such two hearts, if all else fail, Could change to Paradise Gehenna's vale ! xxxr. " I often sit where we last sat the morn When you from me, I well may say, wert torn — Why did you leave me so abruptly ? Why Would not you hear my heart's despairing cry When I ran after you in maddening chase, In that as fruitless as 't was eager race ? Did you believe I meant what I there said ? My meaning was the opposite instead ; 1 was not ready for the parting : nay, For that Time's calendar has not a day ! But you must go I knew ; I would prepare Some way — some hand that might this message bear ; That was not done : we trust but Love and Chance To cure this fault and still our cause advance. And in that hope I write, and trust, and pray, In constant faith in you, come now what may. I will not now write more, for words avail As Love is true, without it they but fail ; But will await to see how these few speed : If aught they lack, between the lines pray read. I know you think me cool if I end thus, Yet words are but Love's chains. " Your Lazarus." It is most brief, — so brief its shortness pains. If it is true that " words are but Love's chains," Yet Love loves words if they in love are breathed : They are the flowers in which his form lies wreathed — But stay, another page ! Now chide not this, Until we know if aught we do not miss. Its date is Abib, caland week to-day — My love, your kind forgiveness now I pray : Impatient was I of your lines too few, And judged before I read your letter through. 152 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXXII. {Reads again.) " May God be praised, my Judeth, he should send To us in Had dan such a noble friend ! But stay ! I may be now too fast to write To you this letter you did not invite ; For not a word to me in all you wrote Was sent, as I can all your letter quote, I was so eager listening, and heard From end to end and never missed a word. I said as much to Martha, but her plea Was your restraint : this seemed enough for me, Since I remember well the pledge you gave To meet me here or join me in the grave. Since you have gone, how often have I thought Of this, and light have of the Master sought ; And he doth make it plain, — so very plain That I can never fear or doubt again. Oh that I could but see and talk with you ! Could give his words, so noble and so true Their very force convinces. Thus, he saith, There is no second life except through death. The seed that falls into the ground there dies, But from that seed a second life shall rise. How true ! We tried it in the garden here, You must remember, from a ripened ear Of corn ; and when you hunted for the grain The empty husk was found where it had lain ! Where was the life ? Was it or lost or fled ? Not with the grain, for that we saw was dead. Life never dies ; it changes its abode : From seed to plant it goes, from man to God ! The Grave keeps nothing : dust in dust is lost ; The life it never claims, whate'er its boast. ' If man dies, shall he live again ? ' cries Job. ' When that the worms destroy this outer robe, This house of clay, yet in my flesh shall I See God ! ' How can he if the soul shall die ? No, no ! Not in the grave, but far beyond, Cry out my hopes, with faith as sure as fond, ,We two shall meet again when Death shall part, And, living, join the loving hand and heart. WITHIN THE SHADOW 153 XXXIII. " Believe this, Judeth, O my love, believe ! I know the truth your heart would now receive If you could see the Master, — hear his speech, The wondrous truths his simple lessons teach ; Your doubt would now be gone, and you, with me, The truth of what I say would plainly see. Pray pardon me that I so use the time To press upon you now this truth sublime, That you might wish to use for other things That I should say ; but, darling, somehow clings The thought upon my thought, which you expressed, That in the grave alone you could find rest. I cannot shake it loose ; and more, to-day Your words upon my heart their burden lay : In them my soul grows sad, until I seem Like one who, not asleep, walks in a dream. I 've tried — now try — to write of something gay, But this is ever rising in my way ; And like a veil let down, intensely black, Hides ev'ry smile, and keeps the sunshine back ! And then I feel so strangely ! Through my brain Shoots, as I write, a fast recurring pain : There falls a blackness on the quivering page, And then — What ? Haddan calls ? It seems an j Before I heard from you, and now to me It seems there lies before, Eternity Ere we shall meet to speak again, — two seas, And this small point of time dividing these ! If this the end now here, O Judeth, live The life of faith ! Thy heart, believing, give Unto the Master ! — I must close — they call — My love, my heart, my life, — you have them all ! And ever yours they are in truth, and thus I write you from my heart. " Your Lazarus." XXXIV. Ah, sad, sad heart ! This neither soothes nor cheers, And my expectant smiles are drowned in tears ! 154 THE STORY OF JUDETTI Why should he write so sad ? why should he wring My quivering heart until each separate string Would snajj with pain, had not his love the power To soothe somewhat the agony of the hour ! Sure of his love — and yet not of it sure If there the grave ! How can I this endure ? Should he lie dead — O God ! what means this pain That seizes now upon both heart and brain ? I must not think it, yet there lies before The shadow trailing through my open door. This must not be ! I will such fate defy, And with bright smiles bid all my fears go by. Nay, I will laugh this sadness from my eyes, And turn to song my heart's desponding sighs ; Forget such sorrows while I court Hope's smile, And write sweet words his sadness to beguile : Words which, of love beyond physician's skill, Has power to cure his heart's distempered ill. Unto that task at once I will address My powers to please in words that charm and bless : Most confident am I at eve's return From this a perfect cure in him to learn. So, World, good-by ! Good-night to sighs and tears ! O Love, send words whose sweetness soothes and cheers, And I will write them in my heart's red wine And Love shall glow and run along each line, Until the message, full of healing balm, Shall fill his troubled heart with holy calm ! Good-night, sweet love ! I kiss your eyelids down, And from Care's brow smooth out each knotted frown. XXXV. The sun hangs low along Judea's hills, The twilight's fitful glow each valley fills, As Haddan rides, despondent now and slow, Along the Kidron's valley, all aglow With golden beauty, as if now he bore vSome evil news to those who wait before. He winds along the way, nor heeds how late The hour as he goes through the city's gate. More careless still, he winds along the streets, WITHIN THE SHADOW 155 Nor e'en salutes the wondering friends he meets, Who stare in wonder as they fall behind, Since he to all was courteous, frank, and kind. At last through Rahab's waiting gate he rides, Dismounting then along the court he glides To reach old Rahab's room, when in the way He meets with Judeth ! Lion brought to bay Looks not more fierce, altho' his frown belies The humid softness of his gentle eyes. " Why hedge my path, you bold and careless one, When you perceive I would this meeting shun ? " " Have you my letter ? " " No, I left it there." " I mean his answer, then." " None such I bear." " What ! none from him ? Did he not write me ? " " No." u ! Haddan why do you torment me so ? If it were not — if I but dare — you see You have, and so advantage take of me." " Nay, Judeth ! speak not so : you make my heart Bleed doubly sore by this most unjust smart." " Why, Haddan ! what is wrong ? Is he — I know There is sad news ! Pray tell me, Haddan ! O ! My father's God ! what shall I, shall I do ? Your very looks declare my worst fears true." •' Peace, Judeth, peace ! It is not near so bad As you imagine — yet the news is sad. Take this ! I would have spared you till I saw Your father and his counsel asked. But draw What comfort there is in them from these lines, For much warm light there is beyond them shines, As sorrow seen through Love's dissolving tears Distorts the vision magnified by fears." She seized the packet — down the court-yard flew — An instant more and she is lost from view, As down the long and dimly lighted hall She mingles with the shadows on the wall : Faint, fluttering footsteps echo on the floor, Their softened cadence dying toward her door. Upon the night a sudden brightness gleams, And through the door upon the darkness streams : With sudden quenching of the flashing light, Roll back again the heavy folds of night ; A moment, then upon the breathless air 156 THE STORY OF JUDETH In wail is heard a broken heart's despair. From Judeth's room the light flashed on the eye, And echoes there her low and wailing cry. XXXVI. A wild commotion follows soon below : Lights flash in hands that hurry to and fro, To centre soon at Judeth's silent door, Through which her cries had pierced so late before. They wait — they listen ! Rahab gently calls : No answer on their waiting ears now falls ; Out through the night the quivering echo flies, A lessening shade of sound until it dies ; And silence, startled by his voice, once more Returns the watchful sentry at her door. Her father, by this deathlike stillness stung To agony, his hands in terror wrung, Till Haddan, trembling, to his side draws near, And, stooping, whispers something in his ear. Old Rahab starts at the low-whispered word, Stands waiting as if he imperfect heard, Then lifts the latch : the light an instant blinds, Until relief from shading hand he finds ; And, entering then, before their startled eyes Upon the floor Judeth unconscious lies. They lift her up ; her stiffening fingers clasp A written parchment crumpled in her grasp : With trembling fingers this her father wrings From hand which to it yet unconscious clings. They gently lift her to a low divan, And there, with chafing hands and cooling fan, Sweet pungent spices, aromatic wines, Revive her : then her father reads the lines Writ on the crumpled parchment, short and dim, E'en in that light scarce legible to him. They read : " Dear Judeth, Pray our thanks receive For your kind letter ; nor too much, dear, grieve At this short answer. Lazarus is ill, Yet his disease does not at all times kill. INTO THE NIGHT 157 I cannot now write more ; Haddan will tell You all. " Your sister in sad haste : Farewell ! " " O Lazarus ! " now Judeth feebly cries, " They hold him from me while he yonder dies ! Oh, give him back to me, or let me go And in the grave with him there hide my woe ! " CANTO SEVENTH. INTO THE NIGHT. T. We look upon the face of one beloved As something beautiful. The heart is moved By the soft cadence of the rippling thrill Which quickens as we gaze, and leaps until It seems the sturdy blows must break the bars Of its pent bound which with its freedom wars. We love the flowers so beautiful, which grow In our fair gardens. As we watch them blow, Our hearts are glad because their smiles are sweet, And make the earth more lovely for our feet. We love our homes : of all the fair of earth, No spot so fair as this ! Here Love hath birth, Of Love's fair children born ; and here abide The smiles of God and ev'ry grace beside. The grave hath none of these. Its ev'ry grace Death steals ; of beauty robs the form and face, And makes them all unsightly, so that love Becomes a memory, lifting us above The sodden earth where still our treasures lie : Is it because man is not born to die ? Is it because the man immortal springs, Like bird exultant, on Hope's buoyant wings, To higher heights of life, that here below We drink from springs which from such sources flow ? 158 THE STORY OF JUDETH II. When flowers fall and wither at our feet, Doth Love mourn long because of their lost sweet ? We scatter them upon the grave, and yet When strown the withered garlands we forget. Why is this so ? Were these dead flowers the last, Would we not to the withered buds hold fast ? The home is broken, one by one they go ; The hearths that know them, soon no more shall know ; Forsaken, desolate, with weeds o'ergrown, Where moles but hide beneath the broken stone. Why should this be ? A Paradise below Will man on earth unwilling still forego ? At parting, turn not back regretful eyes While from it mounting to the azure skies ? III. Read we the lines, unwritten, from the page Which here these truths in man our thoughts engage : The rose may wither and its blossoms fall, And soon its beauty shall be lost to all ; Yet in the flower a second blossom grows, The hidden roots a second life disclose. The rose that dies, in seeming, is not dead, Although in withered bloom its leaves lie shed ; In it this promise man cannot deny : Though leaves may wither, blossoms never die. The home lies desolate, yet from its door New homes as sweet have but gone out before : Though walls may crumble, hearthstones may decay, The home itself shall never pass away ! Behold a truth which hidden in this lies, — The body perishes, man never dies : For what is dearest and is loved the most, Once made, though it may change, is never lost. There is no death if man dies not. Decreed, The fruit bears in it self-producing seed : And as we follow out these natural laws, Behind it all still lies the great First Cause. Why further seek ? It is enough to know INTO THE NIGHT 159 That flowers still bloom, reviving grasses grow : How ? Here we pause, and silently we stand, For life we see, but not the guiding hand. Because that power we fail at last to find, Shall we deny the living power behind ? God's truths man questions, says they cannot be, The proof he gives is this, — he cannot see ! As well the blind might say there is no sun, Through lack of sight to prove that there is one. If breath should wait man's power to analyze, How it gives life, with all the ifs and whys, The world would die while waiting — and in vain — And not one breath of sweeter air would gain. If truths so simple he cannot disclose, How can he hope God's wisdom to oppose ? Thought follows thought, and in the train we see Dissolving vistas of infinity, Where life and death work out their perfect plan To leave evolved the best of all in man. We leave this question where we found it, dark : Our arrows fly no nearer to the mark ; Yet hoping, ere these pages are wrought through, Some clearer light may burst upon the view, And we may see more clearly and divine That which we feel, yet cannot now define. IV. The coming morn is purpling Olivet, But in one home the lamps are lighted yet In Bethany's fair town, nor passing feet Belated here are heard upon the street : The silent hour in eastern towns is this, The sweetest, which in other lands we miss. And yet within that home no hour of rest Has hushed in sleep and soothed the troubled breast ; And from its windows, watching for the dawn, Where trembling hands the curtains have withdrawn, Are eyes now wet with tears, whose eager gaze A prayer is wafting in the glance they raise. That face familiar and the home is known, And both to us on yesternight were shown. 160 THE STORY OF JUDETH Let us go in with lightly muffled tread, With feet now bare for sandalled ones instead, And greet the watcher as she waits the light With Hope's good-morning to her sad good-night ! V. We pass the outer portal through the court, And should we tarry here our stay is short, Since darkness hides, or dimly here is shown, All that a curious eye may gaze upon. Along the lighted hall our steps we turn, Ascend the outer stair where lamps still burn, Until our feet have reached the chamber door Where we the anxious watcher saw before. We pause ; the house is hushed like halls of death, Save that a whisper faint as zephyr's breath Rustles the ghostly curtains in the light Each moment deepening on the fading night. We pass within : the light has now grown strong, And on the floor the shadows lie along, From lamp and window, while the glowing day The lamplight robs of its illuming ray, As lifted curtains let the crimson beams Flow through the room in bright and gladsome streams, Which, falling on the watcher's upturned brow, Upon it sheds a golden glory now. And in this crown of light, sweet in its grace, A saint prefigured, shines forth Mary's face. VI. A moment yet upon the eastern skies Is fixed the gaze of her far-reaching eyes ; All else unheeded now has ceased to be So eager is her soul's intensity : And as she looks with ever steadfast sight, Forward she leans as if to meet the light, Then, springing up with almost joyous cry, She greets the sun's first rays along the sky With hands hard clasped, and lips which tremble there In a hot outburst of soul-thankful prayer. Why turns she to the light, -=- why to the sun, INTO THE NIGHT 161 And not the Temple, as the Jew had done ? She is a Jew, and yet at this calm hour She turns unto the newly rising power, The Sun of Righteousness, whose coming brings Health to the sick and " healing on his wings." VII. As ends her prayer, in low and gentle hum Hushed voices from the room adjoining come : She hears the sound, and, softly passing through, A scene not all unpleasing meets her view. Upon a bed in snowy whiteness dressed, A suffering form in fever's hot unrest Lies tossing there, but now the throbbing brain A time sweet respite has from maddening pain. And this is Lazarus ! Stooping o'er him there The gentle Martha, soothing with her care And words of comfort, answering, if she can, Those questions woman answers best for man. When in the battle — in the wearing" siege — Where kings have rule and man to them is liege, Where sturdy hand gives hard and telling stroke, Where servitude bears unrequiting yoke, Where homes are wrought from Nature's rugged soil, And raging seas invite to desperate spoil ; There man by man stands fast to aid and stay, Guide in the road, and cheer along the way : But when disease the strong has prostrate bound, When grinning Death looks in through gaping wound, No hand like woman's then to give relief, No voice like hers to soothe our pain and grief ! VIII. Hark ! she is speaking, yet can scarce be heard The half- articulate, dissolving word. MARTHA. Peace ! We a messenger without delay Will send, and soon he will be on the way : Mary will write the letter, and I know Friend Rahab will her earnest prayer allow. 162 THE STORY OF JUDETH MARY. Whatever, sister, he doth now desire, It matters not, of me if he require Life-service, or if life itself demand ; I freely give all with a willing hand. MARTHA. No such stern task : for Judeth he would send. In us he hath both sister, nurse, and friend, But something more than these this hour he needs. MARY. And when the messenger for Judeth speeds, Why send not one imto the Master, too ? Aye, both ! I had forgotten. LAZARUS. What say you ? My ears have grown so dull since this fierce pain Hath burned and seared my ever-aching brain That every sound is far, is very far, And whispers on my quickened senses jar Almost like smiting thunder. You will send The messenger ? MARTHA. Yes, brother, to that end Mary will write and start him on his way. Did she not send a letter yesterday ? Of this there is some memory undefined Now fleeting in the chaos of my mind. How is this ? MARTHA. Yea, she sent to you a letter, Which I will read to you when you get better. LAZARUS. Nay, read it now, I pray you ; it will be Almost as if she now should talk to me. INTO THE NIGHT 103 Pray rend it, sister, else I cannot wait Her ooming unto me. MAKT11A. It is not late — It scarce is risen morning, ami indeed The sun is lingering on the hills — but I will read: u Dear La/arus " — i \: vrvs. Did she write that ? Is 't so ? And writ in her own hand ? MAKTll v. Here, I will show, And you can see the writing. LAZAK1S. Dear, sweet hand That writ my name so sweetly ! — It is grand To stand here thus this morning with the skies A well of blue — but deeper are your eyes. Judeth, you do little know how rich — How rich — IX. MARTHA. O God ! his eyes begin to twitch, And the wild light glares fiercely forth again, As Fever's dusky wings o'ercloud his brain ! 1 Peel its angry surges in his breath As if its tempest now drove on to death. Haste, Mary, haste the messenger to bring The Lord beloved on Love's returning wing! The fever now renews its fatal tires ; When they burn out, then life itself expires. Judeth will have full time if still delay The feet that hasten o'er the nearer way ; While now the feet that speed to Him must fly Across the miles which yet between us lie : So grave the need, so pressing is the care. For life grows faint, and Death waits not to spare. 164 THE STORY OF JUDETH Speed the swift messengers ! and there is need That wings be added to their hastening speed. For there is one still swifter in his flight Who surely comes to meet the shades of night, Which gather now in desolating gloom About the borders of the opening tomb. No skilled physician with his utmost care Can stay the chilling currents rising there ; No tender hand its patient ministry Can backward turn a fate that is to be. The voice of Love but calls to death-dulled ears ; The failing heart is moved no more by tears ; Sad faces which with scalding floods now burn With hopeless eyes to dark'ning windows turn, Where fall the shadows o'er their hope and day, As night comes creeping through their curtains gray. How sweet is night when with it comes repose ! But oh how dark when burdened by our woes ! Judeth comes not ! Why still this long delay ? The morn was early, short indeed the way : And hearts that love find wings when Love in pain Cries out to them — nor will he cry in vain. At last the messenger returns alone, His message in his troubled face is shown : The prayer refused, no other word is sent, So breaking hearts must be with this content. How much of bitterness unknown we bear In silent, scornful interdict of prayer ! XL Speed the swift messenger, and bid him ride Through lowly vale up rugged mountain-side, For Death draws near — the Saviour still afar — To let him in, life's gates now swing ajar. The day is past ; the gloom, a double cloud, Falls in the sombre pall of night and shroud ; Yet he who in the morn rode forth, again At the lone gate draws not returning rein, Although the watchers, weary at their quest, INTO THE NIGHT 165 Cease not to listen, nor, discouraged, rest. "Why comes he not, or messenger at least ? Fear with his lingering absence has increased, Since danger lurks in the broad light of day, And stalks forth boldly in the open way. Unconscious, Lazarus since the morning's dawn Has tossed in fever as the day wore on, And as the night turns to the ebbing tide His life flows backward to the shadowy side Of the great shoreless, ever-widening sea Whose billows bound the wide Eternity. XII. Still lags the messenger : can he not find That friend so ever constant, ever kind ? Have now his feet, in their long, tireless round, Wandered afar to Israel's utmost bound ? If he but knew, on wings of love would fly That soul of pity moved by sympathy. Time could not stay nor distance force apart The suffering friend from Christ's most loving heart ! Life lingers still as wears the night away, Yet paling burns its torch at coming day ; Then for a moment it anew revives, As life with death in their last conflict strives. XIII. The morning deepens into broader dawn, The shadows fleeing from the light are gone, And at the window once again is there That watcher kneeling in a wrestling prayer For life to him who yonder lies in pain, Until the Lord Christ shall return again. Hark ! in the silence of the lonely street Are echoes heard of slowly coming feet ; They draw still nearer ! What the message borne To those within ? Shall they rejoice or mourn ? " The Master comes not ! " Such the message brought : Now are these stricken hearts with grief distraught ; Since hope through him has fled and Death appears, 166 THE STORY OF JUDETH And with their Lord's neglect now mocks their tears. Their grief before this hour, though deep, had been A sympathy to sorrow next akin, Such as we feel when loved ones wracked with pain In anguish cry, but soon are well again. For them Death hath no fears, for well they know That Christ the monster could with touch subdue ; And when he comes, this best of earthly friends. A word from him and all their sorrow ends. So beat our hearts in careless hope possessed, While scarce a troubled thought disturbs the breast, As we beside some loved one sit content, Nor see the threatening bow remorseless bent To wing the poisoned shaft in deadly flight The heart of our beloved with death to smite, Until the veil, by hand revealing, drawn Shows bow unbent — the hurtling arrow flown — Still quivering in that breast before our eyes, And our sweet friend, thus stricken, gasping dies, While horror freezes with its deadly chill Our heart, which in its agony stands still ! XIV. So falls the blow on them. At first their grief In Christ had hoped of sure and swift relief : No doubt obscured the blue of faith's fair sky, Nor could they dream that Lazarus would die ! And so they watched with just enough of fear To start in eyes of love a doubting tear, — Not that he would not come, but, coming late, Would leave too long the scale in hand of fate. As still delayed his needed presence there, Their hearts grew sorrowful in anxious prayer : Then hope would spring anew in doubting breast, And for a time would hush their fears to rest : And so they hoped, doubted, believed, and prayed, While yet the messenger through weary hours delayed, And, when he came with his dread answer, still Saw not the shadow of the coming ill, Until it came in night so black and dread They saw not Death until all hope was fled, And he sat visible beside their dead ! INTO THE NIGHT 167 XV. The pent-up brook, which from its rocky source Through mountain gorges holds its headlong course, And brawling frets the banks its floods restrain, Leaps from its rocky hold, and through the plain Flows murmuring on, now singing as it flows, Glad in its freedom which no rocks oppose, Beneath blue skies, which smiling back its smiles On troubled past which now no more beguiles : No storms disturbing, on its gleaming sands It rests contented as its breadth expands, Within green banks beneath wide-spreading trees Whose shadows cool while through them sings the breeze, And bright flowers gleam along the mossy side Whose stooping blossoms kiss its blushing tide, Nor clouds affrighting with their angry frown, Nor in its bosom drenching floods pour down. And so it smiles and flows, and smiling sings Its song made up of all these gladsome things ; When, lo ! with skies as bright and earth as fair As ever sun and summer painted there, When with no note of warning, not a word Of threatened danger's distant coming heard From storm unseen, which o'er the mountains breaks, Whose thunder, echoless, their caverns shakes, Down through the gorge from whence the stream has fled, With deepening thunder o'er its rocky bed, Rushes an avalanche, whose watery wall, A towering flood, engulfs and swallows all Until the steep is reached ; then one wild spring And the hoarse waters madly downward fling Their seething torrents, and the gentle stream, Which lay so sweetly in its summer dream, Its flowery meads, its grassy banks and groves, Its scenes of beauty which it courts and loves, Its pride, its boast, its blessings broad and free, All sunken lie in this devouring sea ! So lie man's hopes, his joys, his all o'erthrown In the fierce floods of grief which bear him down ! Since, like the stream, he holds his destined course, And like that stream life's storms rise at its source. 168 THE STORY OF JUDETH XVI. At first the blow in silence they receive, Benumbed and stricken far too deep to grieve ; So fierce it falls, the darkened senses reel Beneath the shock, so great they cease to feel. As when the spear the throbbing vitals gains, The quivering shaft within the wound remains, The steely blade which deals the deadly blow Stops in its course the ruddy current's flow, Until some kindly hand unkindly draws The barbed death, and yet its hindering cause, Then spouts the blood in torrents through the wound, And the red life is poured along the ground, — Thus sank this shaft so deep within their hearts, The blow benumbing deadens all its smarts, Until some hand to soothe their tearless pain Withdraws the barbs the bitter floods restrain, Then drowning eyes grow blind in floods of grief, Which, wept away, bring solace and relief : And after tears, with moanings low and faint, Each thus bewails her loss in sad complaint. XVII. Lazarus, my Lazarus, how still You lie ! And never, ah ! never more will Those white lips speak to me ! I clasp thy form And kiss thy parted lips now coldly warm, But passing through them there is now no breath, Save the cold, icy chill which comes with death ! 1 kiss thy closing eyes and eyelids down ! Thy fair warm hair the death-damps softly drown : I kiss those hands, so ready to bestow Those gifts upon me I no more shall know ! Poor, faded hands ! Like flowers upon thy cheek, They now are waxen grown, death-palsied, weak ! No pressure in them ! No responsive thrill, As on thy breast they lie so white and still ! INTO THE NIGHT 169 XVIII. MARY. My sad heart's love, my brother ! Can it be That he who lies so still is dead to me ? How joyous was thy heart, how bright thy smile, My grief to lighten and my care beguile ! Thou wert my very life ! and in thee lived This drooping heart which at thy touch revived. Thou wert my sun ! and now, thy light withdrawn, My soul in darkness careless journeys on : Thou wert my tongue and thou my song it sings ! Thy fingers touched my heart's melodious strings, And all my being quivered with the strain, So sweet its tender ecstasy was pain ! And thou art gone ! A shadow of thee lies Before my face to mock my yearning eyes. Yes, thou art gone ! Thy spirit, wandering far, Hath shot its glimmering light to farthest star, And in the bosom of Eternal Truth Renews the bloom of its unfading youth ! I should not weep ! but yet, but yet my heart Thy saddened going out hath torn apart, And it lies bleeding in the dust undone, Since sorrow has before my joy begun ! XIX. I cannot give thee up ! Once more a child As thou wert when upon me young life smiled In peace and innocence, when mother died And left thee, fair-haired prattler at my side, And I but able then by this white hand To lead thee out along the chalky sand Where Kidron's stream a dusty channel lay : There we for hours would with its pebbles play ; Else, underneath the stately olives, we Strayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, And sang our songs as only children sing When life is young and care is free of wing. My youth is lost in thee, and as it dies, Along thy open grave it withered lies ! 170 THE STORY OF JUDETH XX. MARY. Thou art not dead ! I feel thy pulsing heart Against mine throb, returning life impart ; Thy temples answer to the warming glow, As the chill blood resumes its quick'ning flow ! And — oh the folly of my love's desire, That from dead ashes kindles living fire ! — Those heart-throbs are my own ! my burning breath But warms with fitful glow the brow of death ! O God ! why art thou hidden from my eyes ? Why are thine ears grown deaf to pleading cries ? Why didst thou smite this unoffending clay, And snatch from it the living breath away ? My father's God, now hear me, I implore ! The Master send, that he may life restore ; For he hath power, if he but speak the word That in her sleep Capernaum's daughter heard ! XXI. MARTHA. Why shouldst thou die ? Are now the Master's ears Deaf to our cries, his eyes grown blind to tears ? On other works was he then so intent He would not heed the message to him sent ? So thou hast died when he had power to save ! Forgotten now, thou goest to thy grave, Forever hidden from our loving gaze, To be bemoaned through all our coming days ! O Christ beloved ! what have we done to thee That in this hour we should forsaken be ? MART. Hush, sister ! calm the sorrows of thy breast ; He knew, and, knowing, did for us the best ; We may not judge, while yet our eyes are blind, Him, when we know his heart is wondrous kind ! His ways are not our ways, yet seemeth hard Our prayer should fail to win his slight regard. But let us learn the lesson herein taught, INTO THE NIGHT 171 Though bitter, and with hard conditions fraught, That Lazarus must die, and now prepare The last sad rites which now demand our care. XXII. MARTHA. gentle heart ! your words my thoughts engage, For wisdom grave and counsel wise and sage : My love for him, the dead, my judgment blinds ; In bitter words my grief expression finds, For it is hard to say, " Thy will be done," When in our hearts we pray still for our own ! Nor is it meet we with our lips express That which in truth our hearts dare not confess. Good by, sweet brother ! Rest thee in thy sleep : May he thou lov'st thy soul in his peace keep ! Since 't is his will ; nor is it mine to say, No matter what I wish, unto him nay ! 1 kiss thy lips, thy cheeks, thy brow, adieu ! A long, a last farewell ! MARY. And so I, too, Now kiss thy lips, thy cheeks, thy brow, thine eyes ; Each kiss now warm on thy cold features lies, As my hot heart upon thy pulseless breast Throbs agonized to be with thee at rest. Farewell ! O loved and lost ! I cannot tell The agony of this last, long farewell ! XXIII. And so they part, and leave the dead beloved For the last rites by creed and faith approved ; Of mourners hired, the solemn funeral song ; Their doleful wails that discord still prolong ; And with their friends who come indeed to mourn With them the bitter loss so hardly borne, Now sit apart, and each condoling guest Speaks words of comfort as it seemeth best. But oh how harsh such words to mourners' ears, 172 THE STORY OF JUDETH Though they be softened by the hush of tears ! Instead of melting, they the heart may steel, Awake some conscious pain it would not feel, Or, feeling, witness in the soothing thrill That love in tender message whispers still. And, as they sit, there enters at the gate A messenger whose haste no form will wait, Scarce the frank bidding friend to friend may show Who would in love attend the house of woe. We know the face ; 't is Haddan's, and surprise Looks out from paling cheek and startled eyes : The meaning of the scene, well understood. Chills his warm heart with his receding blood, So sudden wrought, to him so unforeseen Has the swift ending of his sickness been : For he from Judeth now a message bears Winged with her love and ever-constant prayers That health returning soon, a blessed guest, Companion dwell with Love in Lazarus' breast : With lines too long, though filled with love's lush sweet, For us now scarce to mention, not repeat : While in his hand for Martha he has brought The written whispers of her tender est thought. O sad love-message ! Saddest ever writ When Love's dead eyes are ever closed to it : How many breaking hearts such words would save, Received too late, but hasten to the grave ! XXIV. They bid him enter to the darkened room Whose softened light has naught in it of gloom, Save the sad hearts whose chambers have no light Since the closed curtains shut within the night. In quiet greeting Martha takes his hand : Thus they, a moment sorr'wing, silent stand ; Then meet their eyes ; hers fall, weighed down with tears, Which in their flood the calm before it bears ; While in his eyes the gathering mists appear Which tell of heavy clouds of weeping near. The storm blows past ; the clouds of gathering rain Hide in the depths of bright'ning eyes again, INTO THE NIGHT 173 And he essays some words of greeting now With quivering voice and swiftly clouding brow. HADDAN. I had not dreamed such ending, and so soon ! A life so sweet ! nor morn had kissed the noon Of its sweet midday hour. MARTHA. Alas ! nor I : I had not dreamed that one so fair could die : But then the sweetest flowers of all die first. HADDAN. Not all the sweetest, else the earth accurst "Would thorns and brambles bear, nor set a rose Where now the bitter fruit of Sodom grows. This is most sudden ; and no warning word Was even at the home of Rahab heard. Save but your message, most imperfect told, That brought his answer back so seeming cold. XXV. MARTHA. There was a letter sent to Judeth. HADDAN. True! But in the hasty reading of it through The graver truth to Rahab was not seen, Since he, in reading, read the lines between, And thought it some device, to him made plain, In which you sought advantage grave to gain. Not till this morn the note withheld he gave To Judeth. Pardon now I come to crave From her and bring her answer. Thanks to you We knew her heart was loving, kind, and true, And that such cold reply was not from her. 174 THE STORY OF JUDETH HADDAN. Nay, she at heart a bitter sufferer Could never wound the heart that it must needs Her own should suffer, if through her it bleeds : And then she is herself now feeble grown With grief and care, and wholly broken down. Now while I read her letter, generous friend, The servants will your several wants attend ; And I will call you to me, by and by, For some instructions following my reply. sad, sweet heart ! how little did you know The bitter darkness of your coming woe, When your white fingers eager, throbbing, penned The words within to your now mourning friend ! How can I read the sadly sweet refrain Which runs along the trembling cords of pain ! And look, in thought, within your tender eyes, Beneath whose lids the rising fountain lies So near the brink, my loving hand, I know, With tenderest touch, must cause the floods to flow ! XXVI. (Beads the letter.) " My dearest sister : How can you excuse The bitter coldness that would dare refuse What in your letter asked ? My father, kind As he would be to me, with fear is blind, And sees in all things, where the new Faith grows, Some threat'ning evil he must needs oppose. It is not you nor Lazarus that fires His hot heart's passion. He, in fact, admires Aye, loves you both ; but creed he sets above All things, except for me it be his love ; And that in its sharp selfishness so pure That what might tarnish he will not endure. 1 write this much excusing him, to say Your letter was withheld ; and this delay Prevented answer back. I am so pained INTO THE NIGHT 175 To learn that Lazarus has nothing gained Upon his fever ; yet I hope your fears Have made him worse than even he appears : For I will tell you of my dream, and then I know that it will cheer your heart again." (Dear heart ! you know not yet our grief's extremes, Else you would seek not cure in fleeting dreams !) XXVII. " This morn had soared somewhat the risen sun, And I my morning sleep had almost done, — A sleep disturbed through all the early night With horrors which the shrinking soul affright, — When all at once it seemed, like speeding thought, I to a mount of flame was upward caught, Borne in the arms of one whose noiseless wing Supports our flight while to his breast I cling. I could not see the face, nor did I know If it were born of heaven or earth below, If it were angel bright, or spirit blest That bore me panting on its quiet breast ; Until upon the Mount my feet were placed, And then I saw 't was Lazarus' arms embraced ! The hills I saw around, and vales below, Touched with a golden glory, burn and glow, Like we beheld above the Jordan's stream, When Christ baptized, the heavens' refulgent gleam. The Kidron's valley and sweet Mamre's vale Lay in the splendor, burning soft and pale, While, to the sight, white-walled Jerusalem Shone in the setting radiant as a gem ! Its glittering spires and holy, templed shrine Gleamed with a splendor wrought by hand divine ; While bending arches pillared from on high, A templed earth reflects against the sky ! In such a spot he set me down to rest, My hot face pillowed on his tender breast, And with cool lips he kissed my burning brow, — So plain they were I feel his kisses now ! — And whispered in my ear, ' Rejoice ! at last The burden of our sorrows now is past. 176 THE STORY OF JUDETH No more shall cruel hands us part ; no more Shall stoop the neck which once the burden bore ! Thou art now mine ! The courts of this sweet heaven Behold ! for us a nuptial couch is given, A heavenly choir our bridal song shall sing, While heavenly hands ambrosial dews shall fling, With flowers of Paradise, along our way, Which ne'er grows rough no matter where we stray. Hark ! hear you not the minstrel choir's sweet strain ? And scent the dews that fall in odorous rain ? Behold the bright and ever-changing showers Where fall as snow the many-colored flow'rs ! ' XXVIII. " And as he spoke, a breath about me stirred ; In it my ears enchanting music heard ; Upon my brow a mist of odorous dew Its prismic shower of cooling incense threw, While bud and blossom in the crimson rain Fell soft as snow upon a sunlit plain. Again he clasps me to his breast ; his breath Is sweet as incense, as to me he saith, * Here shall we dwell eternal in the light Of this fair home, which never knoweth night. Kiss me soft kisses. Even so, my own ! ' — And as I turned to kiss, lo ! he was gone ! While through my open window golden day Poured rich and warm, and on the carpet lay So dazzling bright the ever-changing stream That I could not believe it all a dream ! So, sister Martha, in this dream behold The bright'ning future of our joys foretold ; And soon, so very soon, I hope to see My home restored in hearts its wont to be. And Lazarus tell " — (Poor child ! she does not know ! ) " This much my father, jealous, may allow — That I have not forgotten : further need I not to write, for he the rest can read. But I have too much written, and now fails My o'ertaxed strength : yet little it avails, Save that my hope may feed it with such food INTO THE NIGHT 111 As this, which now, I pray, may do thee good. Give Mary love ; and say to her, each line She wrote found lodgment in this heart of mine. Pray trust me, sister Martha, I would come If I had liberty to leave my home. An answer I expect ; though smiles are coy, Earth glows to-day and fills my soul with joy ! Good-by, sweet hearts ! I wait your answer back ; Until it come, my heart is on the rack. Ever your loving " Judeth." XXIX. How can I Send back the one unchangeable reply ? 'T is cruel-kind to paint with hues aglow And mask from sight Death's cold and clammy brow ; Or hide in roses faces dead, but fair, For hands to find when gathering garlands there ! How can I rudely break the silvery charm That holds her heart, with truth's too dread alarm ? I cannot, cannot ! Mary, warm of heart, Adept in love's most tender, soothing art, Write back my answer. Say that I embrace And kiss to smiles again her tear-sad face ; That in our bosoms warm we softly press Her throbbing brow, and, as we press it, bless Her with a love that ever will abide, That with her dwells, — walks ever at her side ; That she may lean upon the arm that binds, Though she the one she seeks still absent finds ; While, mingling tears with those her sad eyes shed, We mourn together Lazarus now dead ! MART. Sweet sister, I could nothing better write : I pray you, just those simple lines indite, And close with invitation that she come With Rahab, if it please, to our sad home. Leave Haddan then to tell them all the rest. Such things by mouth are better far expressed : 178 THE STORY OF JUDETH Let him depart : it deepens but a woe, When it must fall, to long suspend the blow. XXX. Why linger more upon this saddening scene To pluck at funeral wreaths which yet are green ? The fading fragrance of the withered bloom Breathes all too strongly of the open tomb ! Yet, at the coffin of a treasured friend, We, lingering sadly, o'er his features bend For one last look upon the sacred face, One lingering kiss, one clinging, last embrace, Then, as we go, at ev'ry footstep turn Our glances back upon the gloomy urn Where sleep the ashes in unbroken rest, Blessed in repose as only such are blest, Of our lost love, alive to us, though dead, And ever present, yet forever fled ! XXXI. The gathered friends have many words of praise ; The warmest those who knew him all his days : And such judge best; and praise by them bestowed, A sweet discharge of duty gravely owed, And happy he, deserving, claims such meed, Since words from such are eulogies indeed ! The city round the garb of woe takes on ; And ev'ry house, it seems, has lost a son : For fathers speak with half-averted face, As if each hearth had now a vacant place ; And mothers weep as if for children borne That from their yearning bosoms had been torn : While sons and daughters whisper of the dead As if from each home-circle he had fled. XXXII. So gathering groups in home and open street, As they with solemn faces sadly meet, His death declared, inquire with flattering speech, INTO THE NIGHT 179 And eyes that glance in questioning, each to each, Why he had died ? Why had the Healer stayed When for his coming groaning hearts had prayed ? When but a touch of his all-healing hand, With potent power that doth e'en Death command, Had healed him sick, or, all too late, that power The fleeting life itself may still restore. Disputes ran high : but he who all denied Had still the better reason on his side, Since all the graves their tenants still contain, With never one restored to life again. The sick were healed ! Why not ? Physician's skill Rebuked disease and baffled gravest ill : The lame man walked ; Bethesda's troubled pool Whoever stepped within made clean and whole. The dumb were made to speak ! The magic art, Which charmed the devils forth, here did its part. The blind received their sight ! this too had been, And darkened eyes the light again had seen. The dead are brought to life ! A tale is heard, That such, too, have been raised when long interred. So theme and answer pass from man to man : Some silent keep, some answer as they can ; But all the burden of their speech is why, If Christ could save, he should let Lazarus die. Nor was it strange this questioning the hour, The ways mysterious of almighty power : Infirm in purpose, despot in his will, Man, judging God, disputes his judgment still. XXXIII. No further waiting, since has come the day The funeral rites no longer can delay : The Master's ears have now indeed grown deaf ; His ready hand will offer no relief : Hope flies each breast where lingering it had stayed, And plans complete for burial are made. Forth moves the train now slowly from the gate, Where he went in and out in life so late, With bounding heart, rejoicing in the pride Of manhood that with Death himself had vied. 180 TEE STORY OF JUDETH Afresh the tears from pent-up torrents flow, And loud and shrill the gathering notes of woe ; While pipe and psaltery lead the doleful train With funeral notes which deepen mortal pain. Without the city's close confining walls, Where softened shade from feathery palm-trees falls, The rocky tomb stands waiting for its prey, With gaping mouth wide open to the day, Its hungry maw now ready to devour This blasted fruit that f alleth in the flower ! XXXIV. He rests within. The stone fast seals the door Which his still hands shall open nevermore : The world without to him as nothing grown, The world within encircled by this stone, Dividing-wall between the two must stand ; To break it down lies not in mortal hand. From Abel's dust to Egypt's mummied kings, No living flower from out their ashes springs : " A thousand years are but as yesterday " To those who in their cerements waste away, — A thousand years, a moment's space in time That marks Eternity in march sublime ! And yet its aeons circling into space Leave not a footstep in the vacant place, If such could be that dust so long endure Like floating motes within the ether pure ; And through it all the dead sleep sweetly on, As if their sleep had its first watch begun. XXXV. Yet when that voice which spoke to being life, And stilled old Chaos from eternal strife, Shall speak, the dead will rise, and from the tomb Then shrouded kings in tattered shreds shall come, While from their bones the clinging dust will fall, And sweet, young flesh be clothed upon withal : The beggar from his lazar-tomb shall rise, His rags the woven robes of Paradise ! THE SACRIFICE 181 Nor will it call in power a greater skill Than that which lies in a creating will, To bid the atoms of the scattered dust The grave has lost in its unfaithful trust To fly to each, and to each other cleave, Till form renewed the spark of life receive, And perfect man walks forth before the throne, He knowing, and to all creation known ! Nor need we wait the great, eternal day To feel the quick'ning of consuming clay : No law here bounds the all-creating power ; All time to God is his accepted hour ; For he made Time, and it has hoary grown In the long service wholly still his own ! And he who is the Ancient of all Days Himself has set his bounds to Time and Space. Earth hears his voice ; the circling worlds on high, Touched by his finger, in their orbits fly : He can create — destroy — renew again, And nothing to his hand shall come in vain ! Now, should he cry against this hollow tomb, " Ho ! Lazarus, come forth ! " he forth would come, As sweet in youth, as fair in life to see, As if no death f orevermore could be ! CANTO EIGHTH. THE SACRIFICE. Jerusalem, the holy, favored, blest, Of what grand hopes hast thou not been possessed ! Well might the Saviour say, when on his sight Fell the dark shadow of thy coming night, " Alas ! alas for thee, Jerusalem, That killed my prophets, and that stoneth them Sent unto thee ! how often would I bring, As doth a hen her brood beneath her wing, Thy people unto me, but ye would not ! 182 THE STORY OF JUDETH Your homes are desolate, your fame forgot ; And now I say to you, no more shall ye, In peace and glory crowned, my coming see, Until my praise you shout in loud acclaim, * All hail who cometh in Messiah's name ! ' " II. O fair, rich city ! God hath made his home In thy grand Temple. Ages yet to come Will look with wonder on thy favored lot, Thy golden blessings all too soon forgot : That heavenly care which o'er thee stooping threw The sacred mantle God around thee drew ; Thy prophets calling from the unseen land The power to smite, the wisdom to command, And to the eyes of subject and of king The door of mystery wide open fling. That they may read, whoever choose to look, The Future's pages as an open book ; And wonder if of all our human -kind There ever could be men so madly blind. And further, reading from this wondrous page The history of this once most glorious age, Amazement seizes on the sense, oppressed To see a land above all others blessed With rich abundance, present and foretold, So full that room there scarce was left to hold ; That even darkened minds in sombre light Could run and read, and running read aright, The glowing page on which imprinted burned The living letters read by lands unlearned, — That they would Christ deny, their Prince refuse, Spurn him with scorn ; revile, contemn, accuse ; And — crowning madness ! — God himself defy, Then Christ, their hope, betray and crucify ! III. Now through its streets we wander where his feet Have pressed their stones with kisses wondrous sweet, And look upon this haven that might be, THE SACRIFICE 188 No mortal eye again as then shall see. We will not stop its story here to tell, Sublimely told so oft, nor further dwell Upon its scenes, save as the hour require, Somewhat to note the things that shall transpire. The streets are thronged with busy crowds that go Along their narrow windings to and fro : These thousands, hastening on their several ways, As this impels and that their speed delays, Bear in their bosoms severally and whole The powers that all the world of man control, Which, singly or united, when 't is hurled, From centre to circumference shakes the world. We may not follow each, we cannot all ; Duty to such a task does not now call : While human hearts with human-kind still share A common lot, they have no common care. And yet our eyes grow humid when we meet A fellow-sufferer helpless in the street ; His tale of sorrow we with sighs may hear, In pity feel our hearts to him draw near, And yet along the streets we wend our way, If it be on to labor or to pray ; His sorrow soon forgot, until it come To dwell a guest within our sheltering home : So we this hour forsake the crowd for one Who still before us on his way has gone. IV. Rahab, just passing from his closing door, As we approach, now leads the way before. His eager steps and bearing plainly show That something pressing strongly moves him now. We now would enter, and for this had come To visit him and his within his home ; But since he goes, his steps we will pursue, And learn his motive and its end in view. The curious crowds, from ev'ry nation drawn, Attract our gaze as still we hasten on. Their dress each caste in varied color shows, While form and feature race and clime disclose : 184 THE STORY OF JUDETH The Arab from his desert home, the Greek, The Syrian from beyond Mount Hermon's peak, The sable Afric, and the yellow son Of Asia, land and race that day unknown, Save here and there, like bird of plumage strange, Storm-tossed or blindly led, seeks wider range ; For in the line of commerce of all lands Jerusalem a welcome gateway stands. Still as we go, we note the scenes around, While Rahab leads us on o'er unknown ground. What means he now by this long, tortuous chase Through streets obscure and strangely winding ways ? Has he pursuit discovered, and would throw From off his track his close pursuing foe ? Or is he bent upon some deed of shame That neither friend nor foe should know or name ? Whate'er impels, untiring on his track We follow, with no thought of turning back, Although a thousand charms may here supply Their pleasing stories for both mind and eye. V. He passes beggars who persistent wait At ev'ry crossing, sit at ev'ry gate : Blind, halt, and lame ; of ev'ry ill distressed ; Alone, in groups, of ev'ry plea possessed ; Whose piteous cries for alms in pleading tones Should move to mercy even hearts of stones : And yet old Rahab in his silken dress, Who with his gold might each one cheer and bless, But draws his skirts the closer, with a frown, As on these pleading faces he looks down, As one might look upon a whining cur, Save that the dog would greater pity stir ! But Rahab now hath sterner work on hand That doth his zeal and sympathy command ; Some questions grave that burden with their weight, And nearly touch his heart in church and state. These well excuse his air abstract and grave, And pardon of his better nature crave ! For who can think of God's own starving poor, THE SACRIFICE 185 Whose hands outstretched appeal at your own door, When honors wait and heads are bowing down, That hands which bear may now bestow the crown ! Who would endure that hands which beg or toil The festal garments by their touch should soil ? And mar the pleasures of the festal scene By leprous faces that are thrust between ? VI. But none of these upon his thought to-day Doth 'gainst its burdening care abstractly weigh ; Since nobler deeds, if any such there be, Make for old Rahab now excusing plea. The Council calls, his earnest help to crave, Upon a subject weighty, too, and grave, Which touches close their honor, creed, and rites, Their fame and place, and action swift invites, Unto the end that these be saved, and God Receive the honor thus in them bestowed. The rumors come, and thicken as they come, That Christ restoreth speech unto the dumb ! That lame men walk ! the deaf are made to hear ! The blind receive their sight ! and even near — If he had looked — was one whom he had known, — Nay, one who had from youth to manhood grown Up in his sight, blind from his birth, whose sight He touched, and turned his darkness into light ! If this were not enough, they further said, He healed the sick, and even raised the dead ! All in the name of God ; and worse and more, He fed the hungry from miraculous store, And preached the gospel to the dying poor ! VII. No ; these he could not see, as in his haste The burdened streets full in their midst he paced, To meet the Council, which would ways devise By which the Christ they might alone surprise, Still that kind voice, that hand of pity stay ; Because he heals, the tender healer slay ; 186 THE STORY OF JUDETH He of all men who wrought the best among The hopeless, homeless, helpless, friendless throng, Who, for his mercies and his grace alone, To hate implacable must now atone ! On to the Temple, where its spacious courts Once sacred held as worship's sweet resorts, Forgotten now, to commerce open thrown, And the world's market for its traffic known ! Deserving well the censure it receives, " Lo, you have made my House a den of thieves ! " Where are the singers who in chorus grand Chanted those psalms now sung in ev'ry land, The poet-king sang to his sacred lyre, And kindled song into a quenchless fire ? Where are those bands whose golden horns proclaim The majesty of Adonai's name ? Whose pleasing strains with harp and psaltery join Their tribute praise to God through love divine ? Where are the priests who read from sacred scroll The wondrous teachings which their race extol ; How blessings strown like sands along the shore Which were to them a promise evermore That he who led their fathers safely here Would still uphold if they would serve and fear ? Where are the mighty men of valor ? Where The daughters of old Zion brave and fair, Whose beauteous faces hallowed all this scene, And thronged their court in days that once have been, The glory and the pride of Israel ? For in her daughters Judah did prevail : Her mothers were her strength, and with the Lord Found grace when man was beaten by the sword. Where are the smoking altars, where the priests, The holy vessels and the bleeding beasts, The sacred offerings from the hand of love Which brought down blessings from the throne above? Gone ! gone forever ! and their glory fled ; While gather daily in their place instead A motley throng, whose gentile feet profane, With their unclean and soul-polluting stain, These sacred pavements once sublimely trod In ancient time by foot of Israel's God ! THE SACRIFICE 187 VIII. Through these he passes, even to the door Where stands the offering, now concealed no more ; Nor sees he where the money-changers bring Their tables for the market, where the ring Of changing coins must pain the pious ear Of those whose wont had been to worship here ; As usurers, their traffic made with those Who, in God's house, of market-wares dispose. No thought hath he of those who, for a price, Make profit in his courts for greed and vice ; Or from the shambles sell the fatling slain, And coin the altar's stolen blood for gain. A braver work hath he ! He who hath scourged These desecrators from his house, and purged His altars of pollution, now must pay In blood the loss sustained that market-day ! IX. So now he mounts to Gazzith, by the wall, The Council-chamber of the Temple hall, Where secret conclave of the ruler Jews Debate how best they may the Christ accuse. He enters, and the last is he in place ; And ere he sits he scans them face by face. Not that he doubts or fears, but would inquire The hopes and aims their several hearts inspire. Full-robed, old Annas for the high-priest sat In state ; his bead-like eyes, half hid in fat, Malignant gleamed at some disturbing word, Or grave report which he but just then heard : From this distracted, when old Rahab came, He turned and bowed, deferring, called his name : X. ANNAS. Here is Rabboni Rahab, hear we him ; But first to him the pith somewhat will limn Of such reports as have been to us made 188 THE STORY OF JUDETH Of the pretended Christ, his course to aid. Now, of his famous cures I need not speak, Since they foundation have most frail and weak, And like all tales that fill the country round, When search is made, why, nothing can be found But idle rumor, some old woman's tale, Told for the hour when other stories fail. You all have heard them : healing of the lame, The sick, the blind, the dumb, — I need not name, You will remember : yet, when he doth feed The multitudes who perish of their need, Stills the wild storms, and at our very gate — Though we deny, it is beyond debate, — Creates in eyeless cells most perfect eyes, And then those rolling balls with sight supplies ; Makes on the shapeless stump an arm to grow, And through a withered limb the new life flow ; All at a word, and in that awful name Our lips dare not pronounce, — our cheeks with shame Should burn, as we stand idly by and see His brazen claims and gross profanity. But more, friend Rahab : he makes claim to be Equal with God — his Son — Vicegerent here ! This Temple will o'erthrow, and on it rear A kingdom of his own. So to prepare His foolish dupes in this belief to share, Pretends — for it is all pretence, we know, And all conspire with him in this to show His godly powers — that he can raise the dead (And they believe it) even, it is said, And give as names, this witchcraft to maintain, One widow's son who liveth now at Nain. We have sent there, our messenger brings word It was some falling sickness now averred That aileth him. Again, they boasting tell That for our friend Jairus, trusted well, His daughter dying suddenly, 't is said He, with a word, restored her from the dead ; When we have proof direct, in truth supreme, That what seemed death was but a palsying dream. You see he preaches that the dead will rise, And through these specious frauds the proof supplies ! THE SACRIFICE 189 XL RAHAB. If this were all, I see no proof in this That man to soul makes metamorphosis. The gravest charge in it is being God, — Or so he claims to be, — and has avowed That he and God are one ! The gravest charge, I say, is that he should the Word enlarge, When he his curse, with bitter emphasis, Declares 'gainst those who read that Word amiss ; And yet by word and deed would poison mind With teachings in that book you cannot find. ANNAS. What ! Would you argue, and our cause abuse, — Instead of Christ, his judges here accuse ? RAHAB. Not judges, but their judgment, I impugn. LEVI. Let us, the judges, judgment here attune To the occasion, nor be drawn aside By that alone which counsel will divide. Whatever else we each believe, one thing, Methinks, will all our minds in concord bring, And that the work in hand. XII. ZADOCK. True, friend ; but still The slighting speech of Rahab soundeth ill In answer to the kindly words and grave Which Rabbi Annas, without question, gave For his own guiding. And the best essay To prove man hath no soul, we see to-day In the occasion and the slighting speech, Which proves in teacher what his faith would teach. 190 THE STORY OF JUDETH RAHAB. What ! Am I here insulted ? It is time That change should come when words are made a crime, And covert jest is turned to earnest. ANNAS. Peace, Now, brethren ; let these words unseemly cease : In our hot passion we too soon forget The common cause in which we now are met ; Like dogs that guard the sheepfold in the night, We leave the flocks to wolves while here we fight. ZADOCK. Yet to the sheep, the cause of strife thus borne, Small matter if by dog or wolf he 's torn : The wolf without hath honor, being bold ; The dog within, a thief who guards the fold. In open war we honor daring deeds, And praise the foe who for his country bleeds ; But treason hath no friends on either side, In blood accursed his hands are doubly dyed. With him within we fight the common foe ; When he plays false, will give returning blow. RAHAB. If you mean me, I am content to wait And fight the common foe without the gate ; But as I fight will take good care to lend A helping hand to generous foe or friend ! Your words to-day are idle winds o'erblown, And with their sound rememberance is gone : Let us bestow our counsel. ANNAS. Good! Well said! A hot heart governed by a cooler head. Rabboni Rahab, whatsoe'er your creed, We in the common good are all agreed ; And we will gladly listen to your speech, Weill THE SACRIFICE 191 knowing what we hear will please and teach. Be pleased to let us hear you. XIII. RAHAB. Spoken fair : My words shall be but few, yet they may bear Food meet for all your earnest thought and care. The Passover draws near ; and he again Will then return, if not with us remain : He hath warm friends in Bethany, and there He may, while lasts his sojourn here, repair. There we might lay our plans, some plot devise Through which he may be taken by surprise. Now here the people will at least befriend, And, if attacked, with open arms defend. Those friends of whom I speak are of my blood, And I have long against their cause withstood, — In fact the brother, Lazarus, you knew, A worthy man, and of your faith most true. But him beguiled, this faith hath led astray, And all I have disowned on from that day : And yet I love them ! Judeth for long years Midway hath lived between our homes, — her tears Are many since my interdict : to save Them from a fate to them worse than the grave Is now my hope in snatching up their stay ; Then they may see the folly of their way. This is my plan at large ; we have full time, When that the roost is known, the bird to lime ! My means are ample and my ways are sure : If this the plan, the prey we shall secure. XIV. ZIDON1AH. A word, grave Annas, Rabbis, one and all ; I have held peace, and rise but to recall Some things we should consider ere we place Our hands to acts that savor of disgrace In eyes of men, and bring upon our cause 192 THE STORY OF JUDETH The certain vengeance of our outraged laws, To us revealed by God. ZADOCK. Stay ! but one word ; Have you, my brother, all these rumors heard ? ZIDONIAH. I have, and that is why I speak. I read — And there is none more firm in faith and creed — That when our king shall come, Messiah reign, The days prophetic shall return again : Then wondrous signs will fill the land, the air Be thick with rumors : Earth and Heaven declare The time appointed when the dumb shall sing The praises of his name ; the lame shall fling Aside his staff and leap for joy, the blind Shall see, and deaf ears be unstopped. We find These things to-day, — nay, of them we complain, As work of evil hands in ways profane. Should we not pause ? These truths dare we deny ? In our own strength can we the hosts defy ? Pray let us pause, and reason's course pursue, And know if as a fact these things be true ; And if found true, what is the better plan ? Where lies our road ? Shall we serve God or man ? If he be Christ, the madness of the hour Is to resist and thus our hopes devour. Wisdom and Truth through God the way prepare, And victory lies for whom these ways declare. XV. ZADOCK. You must be mad to seek his cause to crown, Which, when you do, you drag our honors down ! Why now accept what we perforce believe ? If not deceived, we others may deceive ; Our hopes, our fortunes, lie along that way : It would be madness to ourselves betray. I grant you quote fair Scripture : those who do These works can quote it just the same as you ; THE SACRIFICE 193 And thus their wicked hearts their work prepare To suit the Word, and by that Word ensnare. Nay, good friend Zidoniah, he but smiles His sweetest on us who the truth beguiles. That traitor false to truth in truth but hides, While lurking treason in his heart abides : The honest man, bold in the truth, with blows Smites to the dust relentless all his foes. Will God, who Pharaoh's hosts o'erthrew, 'gainst Rome With shepherds' staves and shouting rabble come ? Our King shall ride the whirlwind : in his hand His sword as sceptre smites a fleeing land ; Before it falls Rome's conquering eagles prone, And he his footstool makes of her proud throne. XVI. ANNAS. Well said, bold Zadock ! had we men like thee, Our land oppressed already would be free ; And when Messiah comes, no better hand, Nor readier one, shall seize the conquering brand ! But for that time, if we would best prepare, Destruction of the false demands our care ; To that Rabboni Rahab points the way, The means and method wait another day. Discussion longer I would gladly hear If further good from it there should appear ; This is not plain to me, and so, to end What, if pursued here farther, might offend, Will close our meeting, hoping, praying still, Whate'er we do, it be not fraught with ill, And that we bear toward God and man good-will. XVII. So ends the conclave, and with speech profuse Each to the other words of heat excuse : To Zidoniah, and to Rahab most, The others of their love or friendship boast ; They well receive excuse and protest made, While o'er each face, in faint and varying shade, 194 THE STORY OF JUDETH Grim hate, distrust, and deeper passions pass As shadows darkly in a hidden glass, And through these smiles unconscious now appear The hidden images their false hearts bear. And it is ever thus when pride and hate, Together bound, be it in church or state, The offspring of such union, more accursed Than that of Sin and Death, of Hell the worst, Feeds on them both, devouring, as they grow, The panting breasts from which their life must flow, Until this birth an incubus becomes, And at the last its hideous self consumes. XVIII. Let us return to Rahab's home once more, To meet and enter with him at the door : The smile has fled which on his lips we saw, They, trembling at the corners, downward draw ; And yet, although his eyebrows darken down, His forehead wears no shadow of a frown. Some friend in want, perhaps, he chanced to meet, Some saddening rumor heard along the street, Something oppressive to him, — something grave That he must meet, and, meeting, sternly brave ; But how, disturbs him more than does- the cause. From this some trouble, it is plain, he draws, But light indeed, if he could surely know What the result of the returning blow. So, thought-absorbed, he at the threshold stands, His blue-fringed robe grasped tightly in his hands, And thinks, — but in a self- consuming thought That hath no present action in it fraught. The chaos stirred within his whirling brain Obscures all thought instead of making plain ; Yet fires intense conceal their lurid glow By their dense vapors rising from below : The fiercest storms stretch forth the blackest wing, From dark occasion mighty actions spring ! THE SACRIFICE 195 XIX. How long he stood, or would have stood, like stone, An image into pulseless marble grown, Uncertain, when the voice of Haddan wakes With sad speech which upon him rudely breaks. As he in low obeisance slowly bends, And with a trembling hand to him extends The parchment letter Martha by him sent. A startled look on this old Rahab bent ; Drew back his hand, retreated then a pace, Glanced at the letter, then at Haddan's face ; Essayed to question, yet his lips were dumb, — Refused to ask for answer sure to come : He stamps the stones, impatient of his fears, Then bows his head, moved by his servant's tears, For Haddan, troubled by his master's mood, No longer can restrain the rising flood. " Speak, Haddan ! " cries old Rahab ; " is it true, This tale I hear ? The truth must come from you." " Alas, my master ! you may well surmise The truth convincing from these flowing eyes ; A grievous tale of death, and sadly told In that poor body lying stark and cold. The comely lad has no disturbing dreams As from his sisters' eyes run sorrow's streams ; That parchment tells it all, to Judeth writ, — Her soul to his in love undying knit " — " Peace, Haddan ! you forget, and should not seek Occasion of forbidden things to speak. Now go within, and see you hold your peace Until I bid you speak : your weeping cease, And bathe your eyes until each lingering trace Of grief is washed from tell-tale eyes and face ; Then wait my call within the court below, As I shall now to Judeth's chamber go." XX. To Judeth's chamber let us, too, repair, A lovely bower and she the flower most fair ! We have not seen her since that sorrowing night 196 THE STORY OF JUDETH She lay so pale beneath the softened light Which fell on her closed eyes when but a fear Seized on her heart of coming sorrow near, And smote her down, while Death's gates swung ajar And showed his misty shores not dim nor far ! But from her letter we may judge aright That hope revived, and, smiling through the night, To her in dreams bore promise sweet of bliss That mortals only know in worlds like this. This day had been exceeding bright to her, And at her shrine she knelt, Hope's worshipper ; And saw in the sweet mirage o'er her cast The Eden of her joy and rest at last ! So goes the traveller in the desert lost, Where hot sands drive by fierce siroccos tossed, The sky, a flaming arch, pressed closely down On scorching plains, waste, desolate, and brown, The losing battle of the way he makes, Reels tottering on till hope his breast forsakes, Then falls at last exhausted, — panting lies, The glare of death already in his eyes, — Sees in this death-dream valleys fair and green, With flowers and verdure glad'ning all the scene ; Broad lakes spread out with ever-wid'ning shores, Adown whose steeps a sparkling river pours Its cooling floods through groves of waving trees, Which ceaseless murmur to caressing breeze. Soft voices call, a thousand joys invite The panting soul to share each sweet delight ; He hears their calls, his hot lips, baked and dry, Bleed as he strives imperfect to reply ; His quivering limbs he strains in eager pain The treacherous sands that mock to mount again ; There reeling stands, his heart in drunken glee From sounds he hears and sights his dull eyes see: Thus gazing on this scene of rest and bliss That hath no eye to drink its sweets but his, Entranced he stands, enraptured by the sight ! His soul in quivering transport of delight, Unconscious of the death which round him lay, For fear and suffering now Lave fled away : With one glad cry he rushes down the steep Into the valley of eternal sleep ! THE SACRIFICE 197 XXI. Her dream, as charming, with its visions fraught, Through all the morning in her fancy wrought Sweet pictures, glowing in a world of flowers, With singing birds in cool and fragrant bowers, With softened sunlight slowly sifting through The rustling leaves from skies intensely blue ; While music sweet as Love's unwritten strains Sends the hot current leaping through her veins, And thrills her soul until the bonds of clay In fervent flame, it seems, must melt away. And dreaming thus, the pictures slow unroll As in the reader's hand runs out the scroll, New scenes portraying in their graphic dress, And each made sweeter in its power to bless : While ever at her side there wanders one Whose praise to her is breathed in undertone In pleasing streams that ever constant run As shadows chasing the inconstant sun. So plain each scene, so bright each image grew, They pass before as clouds across the blue : She hears the voices, sees the red lips move, Feels the warm breath in the soft kiss of love Hot on her cheek, which blushed a crimson glow, The guilty blood suffusing throat and brow : In ecstasy of love she softly cries, And, washed in tears, still brighter gleam her eyes ! Too bright the picture now for her long gaze ; Her heart is pained, as eyes by midday's blaze : To hide the view while she the memory holds, Her face she buries in the divan's folds, And to its silken curtains whispers now The sadd'ning words of her betrothal vow, Until they lose all sound of sadness there, And woven in the pictures seem most fair ! XXII. Her ecstasy of joy in sleep is drowned, And then by other visions still is crowned, Brighter than day-dreams seen through Love's soft eyes, 198 THE STORY OF JUDETH And gay as wings on which an angel flies ! Yet what those dreams no mortal tongue can tell, If in them sunlight glowed or shadow fell, Save from the pictures on her brow we trace, Which in its smiles outshines an angel's face ! And thus she lay through morning's golden hours, Enchained by Sleep's still softly wooing powers, All care forgotten in its shadow fled, All tears of sorrow dry ; while joy instead Plants thick as poppies in celestial field The flowers of Peace which milk of Lethe yield, While heavenly smiles lie on her upturned face, Kissed by the sunshine's softly pencilling rays. Dream on, fair Judeth ! Earth hath not such sweet For thy sad lips, such paths for thy fair feet ! Her ways are thorny, bitter are her fruits ; The cup she gives her earthly kiss pollutes ; A crimson tide flows mingling in her streams, Your purest joys you drink from them in dreams. Drink long, drink deep, fair maiden ! ere the flow Shall mingle in Life's darker seas of woe. Be glad in dreams ! A cup is at thy lips, And never smiles again who of it sips ! XXIII. She woke, but how need we now stop to tell ? The story that awaits we know too well ! Her dark eyes glancing up in their surprise Meet the fixed gaze of Rahab's eager eyes, Whose very look a spell upon her cast, And like the serpent's charm still holds her fast ; His piercing glance with fear benumbs and pains, Chills the hot currents in her shrinking veins, And palsies speech, until the course of thought Itself is stayed and ev'ry thing forgot ! A moment thus in helpless fear she lies, Then breaks the spell, and starting up, she cries, " Where am I ? What is this ? You, father, here ? " Hush, daughter ! Calm this wild and needless fear ! THE SACRIFICE 199 Yes, I am here ; what is there in that strange ? My absence you might note and mark the change, Since from your mother's death your good my care, Your joys to plan, from grief and trials spare : And o'er your couch many and long the night Have my lone eyes watched for the coming light, While you slept on, as you were sleeping now. Will you not still your father's care allow, Whose love un dimmed seeks in your comfort rest, As in your blessings he is ever blessed ? XXIV. JUDETH. Nay, chide me not, dear father : that you came, Should I object, would fill my heart with shame. That was not it, but this : upon your face My startled eyes the signs of sorrow trace ; For that dear face to me is like a book On which the eye, accustomed long to look, Learns ev'ry line and mark that meets the view, And at a glance detects each tracing new ; So, as I look, about your mouth and brow Some strange, new lines are plainly written now. RAHAB. You may be right : in truth, I feel you are. Affairs of church and state have brought new care ; And I just now have from the Council come To seek an hour's relief with you at home. JUDETH. I am so glad, my father, that you feel That in this feeble hand is power to heal The mind made sick with cares that needs must be Borne by kind hearts to shelter such as me ! Sweet father, let me chafe your furrowed brow, That looks so dark and haggard even now ; And let me sit once more upon your knee, My throne of state you know it used to be, And, with my arms your neck encircled round, With kisses soothe your sore heart's bleeding wound. 200 THE STORY OF JUDETH You will not let me ? Then on the divan Rest while I read to you, — or else we plan Some new diversion when the fasts are done, And days of our rejoicing have begun. XXV. RAHAB. How like a child you prattle, Judeth ! JUDETH. So I am, and happy as the day ! My woe, Which sat so heavily upon my heart, Is fled, and darkened clouds now fall apart, And from the rifts my sun is shining through. RAHAB. How so ? I thought your grief would not allow The thought of sunshine, since I, cruel, drove The riving bolt which tore you from your love. JUDETH. I thought the blow had killed, — and so it should, But out of evil cometh still some good ; And if we wait on sorrow to the end, We ofttimes find in it a helping friend. RAHAB. How ? Hath this sorrow turned into a joy, And findeth hope in what should hope destroy ? JUDETH. I thought you hard, my father, — that your hand Should separate, and Lazarus be banned, And I from them cut off. And it was hard, When on my very thought was set a guard, Forbidding it to breathe his name, and not Because upon that name was stain or blot Save one of our belief. This could not change My wedded heart : this new belief, though strange, Within my being hath so twined about, THE SACRIFICE 201 To purge my heart you needs must pluck it out ! The longer here confined, the closer round And deeper in my heart his love hath wound. Not prison walls, nor courts where all is gay, Can conquer love, nor pluck belief away. XXVI. RAHAB. For your own good, you I have sought to save From peril of mistake so great and grave : If I have failed in this, the bitter pain, Not in the deed, but that 't was done in vain. I might have been content to own your love, Could I from you this curs'd belief remove. Nay, that belief but strengthens love, and gives It richer food on which it grows and thrives : The two inborn, and cherished by the fire That quickens faith and softens our desire, Binds even closer heart to heart, and weaves The meshes round my life, nor in it leaves To me a choice. RAHAB. Then is it all in vain, My love, my care, my teaching ? Will the pain Of your neglect be added to despite, And my old heart bleed from this bitter slight ? You cling still to that banned, forbidden faith, And Lazarus love through life unto his death ? JUDETH. Father, I would not wound your guarding love, And aught that child can do will do to prove That you lie deep within my heart. My faith Is not of me, nor is my love. He saith That he is true who to his heart is true ; A lesson old, and one I learned from you. Would you now ask me falsely to deceive, — Denying this, renounce what I believe ? Which is the better, — truth in life, though wrong, Or falsehood lived in the angelic throng ? 202 THE STORY OF JUDETH I want you to be true ; and, since a child, The light of truth has on your pathway smiled. And I have taught you, — trusting to no one The task ; and if 't were well or illy done, It was the head, not heart, that in it erred. I guarded ev'ry thought, weighed well each word, As gems and gold are weighted in the scale, To give you their true value. Should this fail, Now that my head, like Hermon crowned with snow, Is blossoming to death, it bringeth woe To my old heart that hath not hope nor cure. I want my daughter as the snows are, pure From all that can defile : for this I taught ; For this, when from your trusted friends I sought To snatch you, and by that I hoped to save From what to me is darker than the grave. Will you not give them up ? Renounce, resign Their love and faith you hold, for me and mine ? XXVII. JUDETH. I know 't is true, my father. Ev'ry line That marked your life is reproduced in mine. And I have lived in you as thought and guide, And where you walked I, too, walked by your side. I had no self from you distinct, apart : The very beatings of my separate heart Were timed to your desires. Since I have known The Master, thought and faith have separate grown ; While in my love for Lazarus, there grew A force that separated me from you ; Not as a child, — that surely could not be, — But as a woman, separate and free. I would be all you ask as child, but here The duty to myself is no less clear, I cannot give them up. RAHAB. You cannot? say You will not, then 't is I will find a way To wring them from you. THE SACRIFICE 203 JUDETH. O my father ! stay Thy wrath, and force me not by words unkind To speak in haste, for wrath is always blind. BAHAB. Ah ! wrath is blind, but blinder are the eyes That will not see the course where duty lies, Nor will be led therein. Stay ! have you heard From Bethany to-day ? JUDETH. No, not a word, But wait in instant expectation now — And time sufficient for it I allow — An answer back to me : why do you ask ? BAHAB. Sometimes the frankest faces wear a mask To hide their hearts. No matter ; not a line Of such I see in face so frank as thine, Nor should I ask the question. Tell me why, Since this is so, you still my prayer deny ? Your love is hopeless : I will not consent To such a union ; nay, I will prevent It, not to thwart your love, but you to save From that to you far darker than the grave, — The loss of caste and station. I care not For these, save that you love them. All forgot By me are these vain things of life ; my thought Is full of those grand lessons taught By the Messiah, and with these to guide, And Lazarus walking ever by my side In love made constant, I can all forget. Save thee alone, without one poor regret. BAHAB. Still Lazarus and that faith ! You cling to these As the vile leper to his dire disease. 204 TEE STORY OF JUDETH Why not ? the one brings solace to my pain ; , The other heals, nor leaves a leprous stain ! RAHAB. I talk, persuade, and even plead, to one Whose duty is to do, not argue. Done Are idle words ; your answer I require. Let it be yes or no ! JUDETH. Nay, spare me, sire ! You know my heart, and as an open scroll The truth now written there I would unroll To farthest fold, were it still further writ : What more in words can I now add to it ? Is there yet pleasure wrung from out my woe ? R ATTAN , Will you renounce them ? Give your answer. No. RAHAB. As you decide, my further task is light : My door lies yonder, and beyond the night Is waiting you. JUDETH. My father, as you will ! For now I go to him who waits me still : No home have I to shelter me from harm ; No stay to lean upon except his arm. The Master I will meet there, and his smile My heart will of its bitterness beguile. Oh, I could fly to meet them, if thy frown As night upon my heart did not come down ! RAHAB. You should make haste, before the outraged Law Hath hanged him on a tree. THE SACRIFICE 205 XXVIII. JUDETH. When last I saw, The little children gathered at his feet, While he to them the story did repeat Of God's great love : should he be hanged for that ? RAHAB. We well may guess the plot which he is at. So robbers with the guileless children toy While yet they plot their village to destroy. But I no further argue. You have said, — And from this hour you are to me as dead ; While that same arm you boast as your support, You soon will find to reach you has grown short. JUDETH. What mean you, father ? Oh, what horrid fate Is hidden in your words ? RAHAB. Your lost estate Is bitter without curses, nor could I A bitterer from burning hate supply Than in that paper hid. Take it and read, You that my old heart wrongs in lonely need Of love like yours ; then tell me which is best, — Dead Love's embrace or Rahab's sheltering breast ? JUDETH. Oh, hard, my father, be it yet thy will ! If Love cannot embrace, it will not kill. If Love be dead, then soon, ah, soon ! will I, Glad of escape, up to his bosom fly : There, sheltering on his breast, not cold to me, Forever in his arms my rest shall be ! XXIX. Ah ! what is this which trembles in my grasp, And would escape from my uncertain clasp ? 206 THE STORY OF JUDETH Frail as my life, yet on it, as a thread Suspended, hangs that life. I look with dread Upon its hidden mystery to see — A letter ! And from Martha unto me. There should no terror in it lurk, no pain, — Yet kinder hands than hers have ofttimes slain. Now I will open and its hidden message read, Tho' from each word my heart, sore wounded, bleed. Be firm, poor fingers ! Steady, in thy task ! When this complete, 't is all of ye I ask : Hold fast the page, while my unsteady eyes Read the sharp words from which my poor heart dies. I cannot see ! Has light forever fled ? Stay ! What is this I read ? " Lazarus is dead ! " Dead ! Dead ? He said to me he would not die ! Nor is he dead ! Behold ! the opening sky Reveals him with his arms outspread to me : I come ! I come ! dear Lazarus, to thee ! XXX. As some light bark, outspreading ev'ry sail On seas becalmed, is caught by sudden gale, Unsteady rides the fast increasing waves A moment, as the battling winds it braves, By sudden lurch upon its bow is thrown, Then, shuddering, poises ere it plunges down ; Its yards, like wildly pleading arms, on high Implore the pity of a frowning sky ; While wild and high the seas around it pour, And in the flood it sinks to rise no more, — So Judeth sinks beneath this sudden storm, As death's cold billows sweep above her form, Save that to her now streams the beacon light Across the flood, the harbor safe in sight ! XXXI. Above her now aghast old Rahab stands, With quickly clasping and unclasping hands ; His quivering lips are ashy in the light, His parchment face a livid, brownish white : THE SACRIFICE 207 So swift the work by cruel Love begun, He scarce has spoken ere the deed is done ! He cannot think, — hath not the power of thought To understand the woe his hand hath wrought. A sudden faint, a spasm of swift pain, Is all, and she will soon revive again : Such thought at first he may have had, but now The pallor deepens on her upturned brow ; No flush returning to the cheek — no breath To lip, he inly cries, "is this thing Death? " XXXII. As the fierce tigress, eager, panting, springs To seize her mangled cubs the hunter flings Down her dark den, and with caressing tongue Strives to revive again her murdered young : So Rahab, when he saw his daughter lie, Her white lips silent, with a startled cry That in the tremor of its rising tone Had all the anguish of a dying groan, And arms uplifted, hands outstretched and wide, He threw himself full length at Judeth's side. There prone he plead with her, kissed and caressed, Folded her lovely head against his breast. Parting her locks, he laughed as through her hair He kissed her forehead damp and deadly fair ; Then laid her down upon the low divan, Chafing her clay-cold hands anew began, Unconscious still that life itself had fled, And that his ea^er hand caressed the dead ! XXXIII. At last he starts from his delusive dream, As truth's cold lights upon his vision gleam. With eager foot he hastes across the floor, And face to face meets Haddan at the door. " Fly ! Haddan, Fly ! The leech in hot haste call ; Arouse the house, and send them one and all, Some here, some there, relief and aid to give, That from her death trance Judeth we revive ! " 208 THE STORY OF JUDETH No second word he needs, for long in call Has he awaited, pacing through the hall, For this dread hour, assured that it would fall : Nor had he idly waited ; but instead, Now ready at his hand around are spread The waiting needs an hour like this requires, Which, soon supplied, the anxious nurse inspires. XXXIV. The leech is brought, and willing hands apply The arts reviving long and faithfully : Old Rahab, aimless, hastens here and there, Alternating from hope back to despair, A hundred questions asking, without stay For answer ere again he hastes away. His look is pitiable, and his cry, Ever the same, is " Do not let her die ! " Alas ! appeal for her is now too late ; His own rash act has hastened on her fate, "Which had delayed if he his rage had stayed, And smooth the way of grief by soft words made : Aye ! even death he might have turned aside Had Love been stronger in his heart than Pride. How vain is pride, how false to all our good : Mad when 't is free, and bitter when subdued ; False when it serves, and fickle in its reign, Forgetful of our pleasure and our pain ! Self is its all, and in it all complete It drinks the draught if bitter or if sweet ; Place and its own, these gained, the rest Beside is lighter than the buffoon's jest. Yet he who dwells within its gilded halls, Whose airy coldness hearts of love appalls, Lives separate, alone, a desert in his breast, Fear his companion, Solitude his rest ! Love hath no place within except to serve ; Friends are unknown, as such the name deserve ; Of kindred, power may win, blood hath no ties, Save but the choice to honor or despise ; The poor it knows not, though their lineage springs Untarnished from the richest blood of kings. THE SACRIFICE 209 Pride ruled in Rahab's heart, and for its gain Hath robbed him of his all in Judeth slain ! XXXV. But all regrets are vain ; old Rahab's brow Is darkened by a cureless sorrow now : How much of self-accusing grief is wrought In the fierce current of his bitter thought No lip can tell, nor suffering heart compute, Since those the tale might tell are hushed and mute. The mourner's wail is heavy in the air, With notes that breathe the echoes of despair ; And as the tale of death goes sadly round, The answering wail but shows of some new wound, Still adding to their grief ; as Nature grieves Departing beauty of the Autumn leaves, Not for the leaves thus fallen, but because Inexorable Death is constant in his laws, And the first leaf bears in its early fall The sad presaging of the fate of all ! So in the fate of Judeth, falling thus, Is whispered now the death of Lazarus. So come our griefs : a shadow on the light, Then thick'ning darkness hiding half the sight, And then the black and desolating night ! XXXVI. We close this picture, dark'ning in its gloom With the thick shadows of the closing tomb, With Rahab solitary and alone Shut up with grief. A low and plaintive moan, A shivering chill like wind at evening blown, In low and whispering sighs through aspen leaves, Shakes his bent form, and shows how deep he grieves. Now one had thought, who saw him on that day, Sweep with a word his fellow's scorn away, Who in the hot and fast increasing strife Showed but contempt for paltry things of life, And in his tenets rested in the faith That life was breath and lack of it was death, 210 THE STORY OF JUDETH That lie would have no tears to shed for those Who in the grave their weary heads repose. Yet now he sits with head bent low, and eyes Set hard on space to search Death's mysteries ; But what he sees his lips refuse to tell, And keep their secrets for a time right well. Hours speed on hours ; the night in swift retreat Hastes to the arms of dawn on dusky feet, And yet he sits there : Rest and Sleep defied Have fled, Despair still lingering at his side, And whispering in his ear, " Be strong, be brave ! For all of life but endeth in the grave ! " So, ever in the presence of our fate, We with our pride and conscience hold debate : And when the hand of death hath touched the brow, We who have known declare we do not know. At last arousing, first his stony gaze Hath caught the glitter of a steely blaze, Cold, cruel, deadly, in its gleam of hate, Which marks a soul defying fear and fate. This, melting slowly, as the morning's beam Purples the east and falls on hill and stream, To softer glow, which lights his eye instead, While sad and sorrowful he shakes his head, And mutters hoarsely through his snowy beard, " Even my one sweet lamb he hath not spared ! Have I done right ? Should I judge this new creed ? I have not seen, but now I feel the need — And Lazarus, too, lies dead ! Why is God's ear Deaf to the cry of love and will not hear ? Jairus' daughter felt the touch divine : The hand that raised her up can now raise mine ! Oh that the Christ would come ! Not as I sought, But that I, too, may know his mercies wrought." WITHIN THE GATES 211 CANTO NINTH. WITHIN THE GATES. I. Thou All-Eternal Mystery ! First Cause, Creator, God ; the Law unto all laws ; Before thy great creation now we stand, With sightless eyes and flesh-enfeebled hand, And stretch our arms, as blind men in the night, To feel the path they cannot find by sight ! We cannot draw the veil behind which, hid, Lie Mystery of mysteries. If we did, For our presumption we would surely find Our prying, earthly eyes of sight struck blind ; W T e, left in night to grope along life's road, And, seeking that denied, lose that bestowed. We do not ask to see, — nay ! would we hide Our face in terror from that portal wide, And with our brows low in the dust await The awful closing of the flaming gate To thy Eternal Courts, if earthly eyes Were ours, with which to gaze on Paradise. Not Icarus' waxen wings and plumage ours, Content we use the cautious father's powers. No, not that sight, but let a golden cloud With silver curtains our weak vision shroud : Then take our eyes and consecrate their sight To the swift burning of that fadeless light ; And give them powers unfailing to pursue The swift, prismatic, ever-changing view : Then take the heart, and give it power to feel The grandeur which these opening scenes reveal, And melt it with thy love until it flow A liquid flood of feeling all aglow. In which all hateful things on earth here found Shall in it be forever sunk and drowned : Take, then, the brain, and purge of all impure, Give power to know and strength that may endure ; 212 THE STORY OF JUDETH Write on its folds the words we may repeat, Paint on its forms all pictures there complete ; And then the hand with cunning strange endow To weave the colors into fields that glow, To paint the softened scenes, and touch with pen The words of Truth until they glow again. So wings our prayer, as to this task we turn, And wait thy answer in the fires that hum, Inspiring thought and opening to the sight The cloudless Universe in glory bright, Where thou, O God ! thy throne hast set to reign : Without thou givest, all our work is vain ! II. Shine, light Eternal ! in descending rays Let all the heavens around in glory blaze ! Fill earth and sky until our feeble sight # May see ascending spirits wing their flight, And watch their course through ether's deep profound, Where stars are lost and worlds themselves are drown'd, Until their glory paling in the light Is hid within the blazing Infinite. The dawn is breaking on the Soul's dim sight ! The shadows part — the clouds now flee away — The zenith glows and Heaven's eternal day Dawns through the mist of finite sight, and clear The hills of Beulah through the rifts appear ! We stand transfixed before the sight revealed ; See in what shadow earthly eyes are sealed, — How small the space our little world contains, And of the Universe its smallest grains ! What seemed but stars, each wheels a blazing sun, And their appointed courses steadfast run ; And in their train draw through the realms of space Their wheeling satellites in endless chase. To eyes that can behold each mighty world, As through the heavens it flies a meteor hurled, The faintest shapes that fill the infinite Float large and dense upon the wondering sight : As eyes to sight, so ears attuned to sound Catch the faint echoes ever floating round ; WITHIN THE GATES 213 Thus sweetly tuned, upon the quickened ears Swells the sweet music of the gliding spheres ! in. We are of earth, but not upon the earth : Floats far below the place which saw our birth, While yet our eyes are fixed upon that sphere Of many sorrows, yet to us still dear. And, watching, there we see two beings rise, With wings fresh-plumed to mount the shining skies : Their bright robes, woven of the mists of light, Now shine refulgent in their upward flight. They spring exultant through the bending air, Whose buoyant wings them heavenward floating bear, Swift as the light from the Eternal Throne, That at God's thought through all his realms has flown. Two Souls they are, new-born to this estate, Sprung from yon earth and grovelling there of late ; Now, free at last, through God's unbounded grace, Fly forth exultant to his dwelling-place. IV. To us they are familiar : in the clay We walked together in earth's lowly way. Our paths, not yet divided, we pursue, And keep our earthly friends still here in view. There seems no haste : their twining arms are wound. In Love's embrace, each other's neck around ; Her face is upward turned, his downward bends, A smile to both a heavenly beauty lends ; And rising they converse, yet hushed their tones, Silence their harshest word his whisper owns ; And yet so pure the air, so quick the ear, We can the lightest sigh they utter hear, For whispering echoes catch each trembling sound, And breathe it deepened on the air around. 214 THE STORY OF JUDETH V. How like those scenes we never may forget, We have beheld on lowly Olivet, Where they together walked with lingering feet In those bright hours which were of earth so sweet, Before the cloud which grief brought in its gloom, And through its shadow showed an open tomb ! Long parted by the cruel hand of hate, They mourned on earth their hard and hopeless fate ; Sighed out their spirits in unbroken grief That saw for them in death alone relief, — But not as they now find. The wildest dream Of their fond hearts gave not the faintest gleam Of this first joy they feel as floating out, With not one fear, no lingering, shadowy doubt That savors of the earth, to cloud the brow, Crowned in its first immortal sunshine now ! So, basking in its halo of delight, On Love's soft pinions now they take their flight, Not with the heavy wing the mortal flame Bears the glad heart as soars the soul the same, But one of ether woven, fledged anew With the soft filaments of ethereal blue. Their hopes and fears, their joys and sorrows known, We, while on earth they journeyed still, have shown So we, as now their whispered converse hear, Will tell their story e'en to mortal ear. VI. How light the soft air feels, as in my hair Its fragrant breath is gently stirring there, Sweet as your own when on fair Olivet I breathed it when our lips in kisses met ! Your arms that now embrace me have more power Than when they held me in that parting hour. For then they were too weak my flight to stay, While now they bear me upward and away From earth and pain. WITHIN THE GATES 215 LAZARUS. My love was strong to hold, But fleshly arms are weak. The spirit bold, In fettered clay sinks ever further down When it would rise : defeat, the mortal's crown, And all his laurels, are but bleeding thorns Which make the wreath that his own head adorns. JUDETH. Let us forget the earth, for it is sad, And as above we soar let us be glad. LAZARUS. Nay ! let us not forget, that would be wrong : The saddest notes are in the sweetest song ; And then beneath us are some friends that we Are hoping soon in this sweet life to see. I did not you forget, but on the wing Above those distant hills hung hovering, Waiting and watching for you. JUDETH. Ah ! I know. You came to me in dreams, and on my brow I felt your loving kisses. VII. LAZARUS. Yes, and more : The night I died, your slumbering soul I bore In my soft arms, plucked from your sleeping clay, Up on my flight to Olivet. JUDETH. Hay, They told me, long as in a trance. I know The hour you came : the heavens seemed all aglow With light like this around us, and I felt Myself uplifted, and my being melt Into a flood of joy, and on the height Of Olivet, when we had ceased our flight, I felt my feet touch earth, and then your breath — 216 THE STORY OF JUDETH And in it seemed to me the chill of Death — ■ When on my lips your kiss of parting fell, As through it breathed a sigh in soft farewell, And you were gone ! LAZARUS. No, no ; not I, but you. Like thought, you to your clay-cold body flew, When earthly voices called, and left me there, But not as you did once, in wild despair, For I knew you would come again. All day I felt so happy, though in death you lay, Which I knew not, and wrote to Martha so, A sad and mocking letter in her woe. Fair Judeth, — and you are divinely fair, But not more beautiful than when we there Strayed on the Mount of Olives, — I would know What think you now of Death, — if joy or woe Lies buried in the grave ? JUDETH. Woe still there lies, But Joy is risen, and with us now flies To God's Eternal Courts. VIII. The Master taught Sweet lessons to us, and with love so fraught That it was heaven then brought down to man, And in his love this joy I feel began ! Oh that I could behold him once again ! The brightness of his smile this hour makes plain, Since it was brought from heaven. WITHIN THE GATES 217 IiAZABUS. Look below! Where yonder star is radiant with the glow Of light consuming. JUDETH. Pray, what star so bright, That burns so fiercely on the brow of Night, Is that we see ? The whirling suns, so vast They crowd divided space as they rush past, Seem not more grand ; their light a taper's spark, "Which seems to make the shadows still more dark Compared to its increasing flame. lazakus. Our earth Is that you see. The flames now leaping forth Is but the glory of the Holy One, That far outshines the brightness of the sun. JUDETH. Whv, I see not the earth, but only see — What is it ? Not the hills of Galilee ? Is this thing possible ? Lifts Tabor there His green-browed summit : Hermon, faint but fair, His snowy head reveals ; and Jordan's stream Pours down its floods in light. I see the gleam Where lies the Dead Salt Sea, a burning glass, Across whose waves no ruffling billows pass. And who are they along the steepy shore Where Jordan's waters now tumultuous pour, That climb the heights which guard the narrow plain, Returning towards Jerusalem again, Still hid in shadow, save that fitful rays Of this strange light upon its Temple plays ? Is that — can that be Christ, whose presence burns And all the shadow into brightness turns ? Yes, it is he ! And from his raiment streams The wondrous light which from him upward gleams, And shows Judea, blazing as on fire From Nebo's crest to Carmel's rocky spire, While all the earth beside, without this light, Lies floating in impenetrable night ! 218 THE STORY OF JUDETH IX. L.AZAKUS. Yes, that is he ; and, following in his train, Are his disciples from the Jordan's plain ; Their faces you can see, and call the names Of those who walk within the lambent flames. When on the earth, you may have seen the light, Its small, thin ray intensely strong and bright, Shoot through the blackness of a darkened room. And flame a gilded halo on the gloom : That ray, which through its wondrous course has run, Was but a part of the consuming sun. So is the glory of the Christ, concealed To us on earth, through God from heaven revealed. O wondrous power ! A glory all untold To eyes where sin the clouds obscuring rolled : How weak we are, immortal still in part, Who sin pursue with eager, panting heart, When, could the eye look upward and believe, New sight through faith in God it would receive. LAZARUS. Your heart grows full when these dim glories rise. Wait ! hold your peace, and further mount the skies The day grows brighter as we hasten on ; Our wings, but faintly touched by rising Dawn, Now speed our flight as conscious of the way, Like birds that fly to meet the breaking day. So let us soar, thus cleaving less'ning space, Our flight a glorious and continued race ; As, clasping hands in silence for a time, We rise to light, and drink its floods sublime ! X. Shall we in silence, too, their flight pursue, Nor paint the scenes that open to our view ? Still it were better Silence set his seal On lips that falter where they should reveal ; WITHIN THE GATES 219 Nor hand unequal to the task essay- To paint the colors of the rising day, Than feeble drawn and weak the scenes portray. Now here the task so far exceeds the power Of mind, that lives on earth its little hour, That shadows faint and dim in neutral hue Confuse the mind with their distracting view ; Yet he who draws and he who reads, of earth, Have all the weakness of a common birth. He teaches best who stoops through shadows dim, And lifts the darkened reason up to him ; While he who soars above his fellow-kind, At best a lost, blind leader of the blind ! XI. On sweep the pair ! Eternity of years In the great calendar around appears ; The whirling worlds their chosen circles run, And follows each his own retreating sun. Great fields of vapor cooling to the view Roll their vast clouds around some planet new ; Vast wastes volcanic, arid, cold, and dead, Show here a world from whence all life is fled. Loud-bursting flames flash on the gathering gloom, Whose raging fires a burning globe consume. A flying comet, with its spreading train, A conflagration whirls along the plain ; While scattered through the mazes of the sky The living worlds in grand procession fly ; Their continents between broad, gleaming seas, With plains and mountains, rivers, rocks, and trees, Invite to rest in flowery vales that glow In their soft sunlight, gilding all below. XII. Beyond all these, to where the circling dome Touches the confines of th' celestial home, They upward rise, in awe and silence bound, Their souls absorbed in mystery profound. But now they lift their awe-filled, wondering eyes 220 THE STORY OF JUDETH Up to the shining gates of Paradise, Which flame above them as two burning suns, Watched at the portals by God's holy ones. Far in the vastness of the vast abyss, That sweeps beyond the sight that looks on this, Rise battlements, which gleam in crystal white And burn like walls of fire from inward light. These on the arch of Heaven unyielding stand, As bastioned granite on the solid land ; Above these walls, as sweeps the eye afar, With not a cloud the vision clear to mar, The hills of Paradise, like fields of snow, In beauty and in light celestial glow. Before the gates, a bright and shining way, An outstretched crystal sea unbroken lay ; And on this journeyed many pilgrims there In shining robes, with faces bright and fair, All toward the gates which shone as suns afar, To light their pathway from the utmost star. XIII. Here poise these spirits in their upward flight, Descending then upon the way alight ; Fold their white raiment o'er each heaving breast, And pause a moment as for breath and rest, Then hand in hand go forward to the gate Whose trembling valves just opening for them wait. No question there, — no passport need they show, The seal of their acceptance on each brow : As they draw near, back slide the noiseless bolts, And from its rest each golden barrier vaults ; Wide swing the doors, and through the portal past Their feet are safe in Paradise at last ! Before and after them a shining throng Fill the broad streets and crowd the way along, While thousands more within the portals stand, Waiting for friends who journey to that land ; To welcome them, and lead them to the home Prepared and waiting until they should come, Glad voices, mingling, join in loud acclaim To greet their friends and calling each by name ; WITHIN THE GATES 221 While silvery laughter freights the fragrant air From happy hearts as friends commingle there. No saddened faces hidden griefs conceal, Nor tears of anguish Sorrow's wounds reveal : Hope fills each heart, and in each beaming eye The fount of tears is now forever dry. As come and go this never-ceasing throng, The shining ways are filled with rapturous song ! Some rise and soar aloft to radiant heights, Some to the lower hills confine their flights. Angels and cherubim commingling join "With the bright hosts of spirits now divine : "While beings strange of unknown world and race, Yet with the glory of the human face, From many shores unknown to earth and man, A ransomed race, or saved by other plan, Else favored by that God who virtue guards, And makes of heaven the crown of their rewards, All gathering within the court await Their friends, or welcome to that blest estate. XIV. Not all in waiting friends shall there receive, Nor yet do they the absent ones now grieve ; Why, is not ours to say : we only know That which we see, not why it should be so. Around where Lazarus and Judeth stand Are gathering now a bright and shining band : Some, from the throng beholding them, proclaim With shouts of joy the welj-remembered name ; Some from the fields of light, on hast'ning wing, Fly to the gate, and with them others bring, To welcome home at last, beloved and dear, These friends of earth, arrived in safety here. We may not name them ; once on earth well known, But long from there, both name and memory flown : So frail the tenure of our earthly fame, So light and fleeting the most honored name ! Mayhap a father Lazarus greets with smiles, — An infant sister, when on earth, beguiles : A glorious being in perfection now, 222 THE STORY OF JUDETH With Martha's voice and Mary's face and brow ! He knows her, greets her, smiles his pleased delight, And looks upon her as a glorious sight. His father and his mother, radiant, too, Their youth eternal charms his earnest view ; With wonder fills his soul to see such change, More beautiful by far than it is strange. XV. To Judeth flies a spirit grand in height, The charm of glory filling her rapt sight, As in embrace, as fond as it was sweet, His blooming lips her cheeks with kisses greet, While gleam his eyes, nor brighter star e'er shone, With Love's sweet glances, looking in her own. And well she knows by whom she is caressed, And that she trembles now on Jadath's breast, Her only brother, playmate of her youth, And now forgotten save in Heaven forsooth. How flashes memory back from scene to scene, And gathers up the threads that once have been, — A moving picture full of light and shade, Whose colors once she thought could never fade ! And yet from them no cunning can devise The glorious being that now greets her eyes, As her old mother, crippled, bent, and blind, And to her couch on earth had been confined Long, weary years, as long as she could mind, Springs from the throng with joy of mother's love Still in her heart, nor purer that above, A heavenly being, fairer than the one Whose bending neck her arms now hang upon. A moment overcome by joy supreme, She stands as one awak'ning from a dream, Then clasps her fast, as if she feared escape Into that once distorted but loved shape, And looks into her eyes, whose glorious light Now fills those chambers long condemned to night, Such as she saw in those to blindness born When Christ into their eyes awoke the morn. Sweet smiles press out the wrinkled lines of pain, WITHIN THE GATES 223 So deep, it seemed she ne'er could smile again : Each supple limb, now straight and lithe as reeds, The twisted, shapeless thing of pain succeeds. How glorious is the sight, how grand the power That to the suffering mortal brings such hour, In this a world of joy, and here to rest Forever with the souls of mortals blest ! Yet this is but the portal ; here they meet The souls beloved awaited long to greet : Beyond — look up ! The home that is prepared Befits the souls that have its glories shared ! XVI. The greetings done, on swift but viewless wings Each into air self-buoyant upward springs ; Judeth between her brother floating there And her sweet mother, smiling, young, and fair ; While Lazarus, upon his father's arm, Soars, clasping to his breast his sister's form. No jealous fears, no lover's selfish mood, Stirs the sweet current of his ichorous blood, So broad is Love, so pure his passion here, That all are drawn within the circle dear. No narrowing limit here affection bounds, No icy blasts that blow o'er earthly grounds ; No fears to chill, no hates to fire the breast "With Passion's rage that blasts the soul possessed ! One broad, eternal love, with God the source, Holds on unbroken in its even course, Until the glowing heavens, with it aflame, Good-will and Love their only law proclaim ! XVII. Let us with these the onward flight pursue, And what we may of Eden's glories view : Hills of delight with heavenly verdure dressed Thrill with their charms the now immortal breast, As from the spreading plains they tow'ring rise, Kissed by the glory of the sunless skies : For here no sun, its feeble rays but lent 224 THE STOBY OF JUDETH By the Creator of the firmament, Pale in their struggle with absorbing Night, Since God himself diffuseth now the light. Great valleys stretch beyond the utmost sight, While rivers clear as crystal through them flow To seas that in the azure distance glow ; While on their borders stand the trees which bear Their fruit immortal, and whose blossoms fair Fraught with such odors that for mortal breath To breathe would in its ecstasy be death ! Along these fields the ransomed and the blest With hosts of light and angels walk and rest. Friends joy with friends ; eternity of years But strengthens love and ev'ry tie endears ; Angelic hosts fill out the circle grand, And add delights to them on ev'ry hand. No narrow vales are these with earthly bounds, That man might traverse in his yearly rounds ; But empires vast, illimitable, shown With but one season and one tempering zone : And yet, if judged by Earth's swift-circling year, In daily rounds its changing fruits appear ; While flowers celestial, blooming everywhere, A thousand sweets from ev'ry garden bear. XVIII. O'er these we speed ; and swiftly flying train With us compared but crawls along the plain. Not e'en the meteor in its dizzy flight, Which cleaves the skies a blazing train of light, Flies with such speed as we ; and yet so vast The regions passing and those to be passed, That in the air we seem to poise aloft, And catch the perfumes rising sweet and soft From the same fields of flowers and fruits below, That change not to the sight as on we go. Although a thousand varied aspects cheer The fields with bands celestial wandering here, The hills with gentle swells of florid green Add pleasing contrast to each changing scene ; Yet they seem scarce to rise above the plains WITHIN THE GATES 225 Where rivers wind like shrunk and shrivelled veins : But if beside these mole-hills of this land, The Himalayas, measuring, we should stand, Their wondrous height would shrink into a span, And Kinchinganga scarce o'ertop a man : If to these rivers, shrunk and sluggish there, The streams of Earth in contrast we compare, The Amazon a summer brook would seem, And Mississippi's flood a trickling stream ; While by each sleeping lake and spreading plain, If we would measure continent and main, Atlantic's boundless seas a shallow bay, Pacific in some inlet hides away, While continents in valleys such as these Would all be lost within their flowery seas. XIX. All these are strange, and yet familiar seem, Like forms and faces rising in a dream : Something of life that we have lived is here ; Something of memory, faint but ever dear, Yet beautiful beyond the power of thought, Which has in dreams of wildest fancy wrought. The colors eye of flesh cannot conceive, Nor of our light the faintest patterns weave : The forms, the shapes, the richness of the flowers That weave their festoons into gorgeous bowers ; The birds of plumage — sweeter still of song — Fill the bright trees where'er we speed along ; And forms and shapes in dazzling hues and dyes Startle the thought, the eager eye surprise. We cannot wait here further to declare More of these wonders ever strange and rare, But must speed on to where, before our eyes, Gleam far and fair the plains of Paradise ; While, as we journey, question and reply Reveal each scene and thought in passing by. 226 THE STORY OF JUDETH XX. LAZARUS. What lands are these, my father ? FATHER. These below ? The Border Lands to which all worlds may go. They seem but narrow and their bounds confined, And yet exceed the grasp of mortal mind. Here, circling round the Throne Eternal, lie The lands which all the common wants supply, — Not at the hands of toil which hardly wring The Summer's harvest from reluctant Spring, But ever blooming, ever ripening there, Eternal fruitage without toil or care ! LAZARUS. Why call them Border Lands ? FATHER. Because they bound The Courts Eternal in their circuit round, And all these worlds — these people blest — can share In mutual use the bliss unfailing there. All share them here ? Then are there homes apart Where friend may join with friend and heart greet heart ? XXI. FATHER. Nay, more than that ! Behold ! I will you show The glory of this land as on we go. For now we pass the confines of the Blest, The land of homes, Elysian's perfect rest : Far as your eyes can reach stretch out these plains, Where Spring eternal in its verdure reigns ; Where Summer's fruits still ripen through the bloom That Autumn's harvests sweeten with perfume. Behold ! how varied is each shifting scene, Where landscapes new and changing intervene ! WITHIN THE GATES 227 Scarce do we note one feature in our flight Before it fades and others greet the sight ; And yet great continents are here unfurl'd, And each new scene is a succeeding world ! LAZARUS. What mean you, father ? Are these worlds unknown To us whose hosts dwell here beside our own ? We passed such by as upward here we sped, But through the air so rapidly they fled I did not note their fields, save that I saw Their vastness, which my heart then filled with awe. FATHER. And did you think our little mote afar, — You long had lost it as a paling star, Save that the Son of God, grand in his grace, Has flown to it to save our fallen race, And from the Throne Eternal on its night The love of God falls with diffusive light, Until there shines out through the closing gloom That sacred spot where Christ doth make his home, — Aye ! did you think that for that world alone Here in these Heavens, where God has set his throne, And in this light Eternal, out of space, Was built for earth-born man a dwelling-place ? LAZARUS. How could I know ? I had but faith in this, That in the far beyond lay rest and bliss ! XXII. FATHER. True, man is but as dust ; his feeble eyes Claim they can search and read the bending skies, And yet see not beyond the clouds that pass, While dumb he stands before a blade of grass ! How can he know ? how can he understand The wonders of these worlds, their systems grand ? That in each star there rolls a blazing sun Which with its little worlds their circuits run ? Yet this is truth ; and as we sweep along, 228 THE STORY OF JUDETH I will point out the homes these plains among, Where dwell the peoples of full many a star Which you from Olivet have watched afar, Not dreaming in the twinkling of its rays Were souls that you might meet in other days. LAZARUS. You startle me by this strange truth declared ! FATHER. I all your wonder once myself have shared : But look ! A curious plain is that in view, With rising hills the valleys piercing through. Small lakes its seas, with waters thick as oil ; Wide-spreading trees grown from an umber soil ; Strange flowers, whose colors paint each teeming field, Which odors rank as incense constant yield ; And curious homes, most beautiful withal, As palaces, whose people, dark and small, Dwell joyful there, blest in the scenes which late Had cheered their hearts when in their first estate. Before you here a mimic world you see, Earth's nearest star, the glittering Mercury ; So called by us, and man, most wondrous wise, Some day will filch this name, too, from the skies ! I name this one, but thick as shine their lights Across the bosom of Earth's darkest nights Lie spread these worlds exact in counterpart, Each as original : the plastic art Of God's creative hand renews in Heaven The varying scenes that in each world is given. Now we draw near our Earth's allotted place, Small it now seems and circumscribed in space ; But when you see its continents and seas, And then compare the known of Earth with these, A blush of shame should tinge immortal cheek To know our kind, so boastful and so weak, Who would the mysteries of God explore, Yet scarce can bound his country's nearest shore ! While o'er its seas and lands in regions vast, The night of ignorance so densely cast, He cannot pierce, until the light from heaven, Through truth in Christ, to him the power has given. WITHIN THE GATES 229 XXIII. LA.ZARUS. Has Heaven for man in mysteries no end, And yet grow deeper as we upward tend ? And what new scenes are these we now draw near, Which to my eyes most beautiful appear ? Not since we left the glowing Border Land Has any seemed so beautiful and grand ! What ! Are we stooping to a downward flight, That all grows plainer to my nearing sight ? Why now descend ? FATHER. This is our mother Earth. LAZARUS. This ? This is not the land which gave us birth ! The peaks of Hermon I can nowhere see, Nor the blue waters of the Galilee : This cannot be our Earth ! FATHER. Yes, ours ; but not That beautiful, that love-enchanting, spot Which gave us birth. LAZARUS. Oceans I see most grand ! Dividing continents of teeming land, That our Judea and all Palestine Would hide in their abyss, yet hand of mine Would cover up their highest mounts, if there With yonder towering peaks we should compare. What are these lands ? They cannot be our Earth ! Or else not there those beings strange had birth ; For human eye ne'er saw in all our day Such beings as in yonder valley stray. I grant you true ; nor has our slothful race Spied out on Earth that people's dwelling-place ; And yet, as ants that in the desert thrive, That lovely region is with them alive ; 230 THE STORY OF JUDETH The time will come their night will break away, And through its clouds shine forth Emanuel's day. XXIV. A cry of joy here breaks upon the ear From the fair lips of Judeth, soaring near : All turn to her their fond, inquiring eyes, To read upon her face her glad surprise, As she with shouts renewed calls out to them : JUDETH. Behold Judea and Jerusalem ! The plains of Jordan and its stream I see! Old Nebo's front and sleeping Galilee ; And, drawing nearer and still nearer yet, The heights beloved of dear old Olivet ! But oh how changed ! Their borders, far and wide, Stretch on and on, and swell from ev'ry side. The vale of Kidron, now a mighty plain Through which its brook a river runs amain, Now swift and constant in its onward flow To the broad plains of towering Jericho. Mount Hermon rises with his crest aglow In golden light where gleamed its peaks of snow ; And Esdraelon to Carmel's rocky height Lies sleeping there, a valley of delight ; While Kishon's stream from Tabor's grassy hills Pours down his flood and half the valley fills. Sweet Mamre's plain ! once dear to Abraham, Thy groves of oak and shades of feathery palm Are yet as fresh as when he sojourned there ; While now in beauty far beyond compare, Once known and named on earth " The Vale of Tears,' Where Adam Abel mourned a hundred years. Here Sharon, sleeping yet beside the sea, More beautiful than brightest dream can be ! But where the towns ? From Dan to Bethlehem There is no vestige now remains of them ; But, in their stead, what lofty domes arise To kiss with golden spires the bending skies ! A land of palaces, which upward spring WITHIN THE GATES 231 From ev'ry hill in which man dwells a king, Make beauteous cities set in fields of green, With fresh'ning groves and gardens fair between ! Of all the cities of our hills and plains, Alone in place Jerusalem remains ; Yet with no vestige of its earthly fame Save uncrowned hills and its immortal name ! But crowding its white walls, which now no more Guard it within as on the earthly shore, Rise palaces for homes in beauty grand, Along the spacious streets on ev'ry hand. But what is that I see beyond it rise, A flaming glory filling all the skies ? A city on a hill, whose farthest bound Sweeps out of sight in distance dim, uncrowned ! MOTHER. That is the City of our God, the grand Jerusalem the Golden ! XXV. JUDETH. O fair land ! How dim my eyes, how frail my sight, to see The ever- changing glories found in thee ! My powers now fail me ! Sinking in my flight, I fall to Earth pierced by this great delight, Which cleaves my life as does the feathered dart The soaring eagle's bold, exultant heart ; And I, like him, stung by its fainting pain, Drive headlong down to meet the rising plain. BROTHER. Nay, sister, we will stay you ! Our tried wing Its strong support will to you succor bring ; Or, if the flight too long, a short delay On yonder mount we will our journey stay. JUDETH. Pray let us, then, alight. Foot I would set On thy fair brow once more, dear Olivet ! O Lazarus ! your words come back again, 232 THE STORY OF JUDETH You spoke to cheer in that dark hour of pain, When on the earthly mount we, weeping, strayed, And, full of grief, our parting hour delayed ! Your words to me were dark and mystic then ; For I but saw with the dull eyes of men, Earth-blind and doubting : but upon this ground The light eternal of their truth is found ! XXVI. LAZARUS. And I rejoice that our immortal feet Kiss its green sward, its flow'rs unfading greet ; And that its sunshine, bright'ning here again, Hides the last shadows of forgotten pain. O native hills, how glorious to my sight ! My heart leaps up, and thrills with new delight, When I behold them stretching far and wide, A heavenly rest, forever glorified. Here through these valleys in the sunless day, Life an eternal song, we now may stray, Eat of the trees whose fruits immortal grow, Drink from the fountains which unfailing flow, Rest in the groves whose odors fill the breeze, Lulled by the music of their singing trees, While Memory's golden moments flood the soul And all its shadows from its sunshine roll ! XXVII. MOTHER OF LAZARUS. Yes, here you may abide as suits your will ; That is your home, and this your native hill. Where stand those palaces o'erwrought with flowers, Whose honeyed sweets in coolness there embowers, There stood old Bethany ; and there our home On Earth, from whence your tardy feet now come ! We, in these homes of sojourn, ofttimes meet, And in the circle, now increasing, greet The dear home-faces. There apart for you A chamber set : would you now come and view The heavenly mansion where we all may join WITHIN THE GATES 233 The broken circle in a home divine ? But think not that the home you now behold Is wrought and fashioned as our home of old : These heavenly mansions are for our delight, For rest and joy in days that have no night : Tongue cannot tell its beauty yet to be, If you would learn, then with me come and see. judeth's mother. And thou, my child, in yonder city fair, Once our Jerusalem, are mansions rare, And there a home awaits us when we will, And to it all of earth are gathering still : With me, if thou wilt go a moment, come, And as it shall be, see thy shining home ! XXVIII. While these are gone, we here awhile await, And further view the scenes in this estate, Not to describe, that lies not in our power, But just to note the wonders of the hour. No desert land is this, nor treeless waste The hills of ancient Canaan has displaced ; No beetling crags nor swift and rocky steeps, No waste of sands that o'er its valleys sweeps : But teeming fields with heavenly vintage grown, That Migdol's slopes had joyed of old to own ; With valleys broad, a waste of fruit and bloom, With groves inviting, rich in rare perfume : While breath of spices freight the softened air, And floods of music charm the list'ner there. Nor hid the singers, who from hill to plain Catch up and echo back the softened strain, Like those so oft at feasts in ancient days, Who toward the city crowd the flow'ry ways. They may be maidens led by Miriam's hand That sang the songs of her triumphant band ; Or Barak and Debora, who proclaim Their people's triumph in Jehovah's name ! Upon the plain of Mamre, at the Oak, Where God to Abraham in blessing spoke, 234 THE STORY OF JUDETH It may be now one of the throng we see, Again he walks beneath his favorite tree ! So, at the Jordan, with the shining host Elijah views the spot where he once cross'd ; John Baptist, gathering with the multitude, Stands once again beside its widened flood ; While Lot reviews that land of evil fame, Once swept to death by Heaven's devouring flame, And plucks from trees since grown that sea beside, Whose bitter waters stir beneath no tide ; Their fruit of myrrh and ashes grown below, Here with their honeyed sweets celestial grow. We may not speak of those who crowd the sight, Sojourners in these valleys of delight, Who come and go forever without tears Or sighs to darken lives of endless years. But turn to grander heights, whose way of gold, Like that which Jacob saw in dreams of old, Let down through fields in floods of crystal light, Whose slow ascent reaches the lofty height Where on the plains of the Eternal One Stands Zion's City and the Great White Throne ! XXIX A thousand glories of the god of day- Would scarce be equal to the feeblest ray That pours from Zion in a flood so vast That blazing worlds in it would shadows cast ; And yet so soft its radiance that the light Touched with a grateful glow the gazing sight, And thrilled it with a power the mortal feels When softened color light's sharp glare conceals. The dome of blue, the arch of earthly skies, Is here replaced by vault of changing dyes ; A thousand hues successive shift and change, These followed by a thousand still more strange, And each so pleasing in the shade and hue That with each change the eye is charmed anew ; While o'er fair Eden's fields and Paradise The light shines out and fills the utmost skies. The walls rise high and fair in purple stone WITHIN THE GATES 235 Of blazing amethyst to earth unknown, So pure that through the range, from height to height, The domes within rise tow'ring on the sight, Which we as through a crystal now behold, With spacious courts and pavements laid in gold. Each gate, a single pearl, swings open wide, And angels guard the way on either side, Not to defend, but welcome as they come The wayworn pilgrims to their rest and home ! XXX. Our friends returned, with them we will ascend The golden way and to the city wend, And with them enter to the Courts of Day, Across whose portals Night can never stray. The watchman at the gate, celestial born, Bright as Aurora at the coming morn, In pleasing garments clad of heavenly dyes, Angelic beams upon admiring eyes. Obeisance low he makes as we draw near, His smiles seraphic charm away all fear, As he to enter bids us through the ports Into the grandeur of the heavenly courts. As we, approaching from the heavenly plains, Were charmed and cheered by those melodious strains Of music, such, if on the mortal ear It fell, the soul would agonize to hear, — So heavenly tuned the notes of pipe and string To the rich voices that its anthems sing ! So now within these gates enraptured stand These souls, transported by the numbers grand, As singing breezes, vocal with each strain, Through echoing courts repeat them o'er again. At last her speech, which for the time was hushed, To Judeth's lips with sudden impulse rushed, And with a cry from soul entranced she flings Her hands aloft, — her song triumphant sings, As Miriam sung, from foes pursuing free, When Pharaoh's hosts lay buried in the sea ! 236 THE STORY OF JUDETH XXXI. judeth's song. Praise Ye our God, for he is mighty ; praise ye him, for still his love endures, And he has triumphed over our last enemy and victory secures ! Praise him ye Heavens that now are, and praise him Earth that soon shall pass away ! Praise him ye Moon and Stars of Night ; praise him, O Sun ; and glorify, O Day ! Ye shall be soon no more, but in your stead the heavens your likes shall here contain ; For he who made you all shall keep you, for his hand it maketh nought in vain. Praise him ye White-robed Throng, ye burning Hosts that in his courts eternal blaze ! And ye Angelic Choirs, ye Saints redeemed and Souls Im- mortal, sing his praise ! Praise him ye farthest Stars that roll in dim Oblivion's far and gloomy night, That have for earthly eyes, which dim obscured by clay, no place or gleaming light ! Praise him Elysian Fields, fair Border Land, and Eden ever blest of all! Your glory is his light divine ; your Day, his smiles which sweetly o'er you fall. Praise him ye Mansions fair on yonder plains, ye Lakes and Rivers smiling there ! Praise him ye Hosts of highest Heaven, who with glad songs his glory shall declare ! Praise him Eternal City ; praise ye Walls and Gates and Streets of burning gold ! Praise him ye Courts of Glory, Palaces, and Thrones of Saints, which I behold ! Praise him Archangels towering now in light ; praise him ye Seraphim divine i Praise him Cherubic hosts and Powers unnamed who in his glory burn and shine ! WITHIN THE GATES 237 Praise him Eternal Years, which nevermore shall end and nevermore shall die ! Praise him ye saved of Earth and Time, — of Sun and Stars through all Eternity ! Praise him transcendent Arch which spans, in glory crowned, Jerusalem the Golden ; Thy pillars, of the turquoise wrought flamboyant, by his right hand now is holden ! Praise him all Earth, all Heaven, all Time, all Worlds ; and praise him every living creature ! The glory of our Lord and King in majesty shines forth in every feature. Praise him anew ye Choirs of Heaven whose strains ring out eternal with sweet praise : Upon your melodies my soul entranced soars unto him, the Ancient of all Days ! Eternal, loving, tender, just, Almighty Father, God! to thee I sing The song of one glad soul redeemed, that bows and wor- ships thee, its King ! Faint is my song in failing breath, but all of life and heart and faith inspires ! And I would die, if there was death, of joy which my whole being fires ! Accept, Father, faltering praise that my poor lips, un- taught but loving, bring : The one grand blessing now I crave is at thy feet to sit, and there forever sing ! XXXII. At her first note of song the lambent skies Grew yet more lovely in their brilliant dyes ; And as her notes swelled out, the glowing light Benignant fell, a glory soft and bright, With halos such as we in day behold Where streams the sunlight full on burnished gold, Save that its beauty faintly here portrays The wondrous glory of those heavenly rays. 238 THE STORY OF JUDETH The friends around, when she her song begun, Themselves entranced, stood silent ev'ry one ; While in the streets and courts the shining throng Half -stayed to hear the soul's triumphant song : For oft had they in these entrancing days Heard souls redeemed burst forth in songs of praise, As through these gates with welcome smiles they passed, To know they were at rest and home at last ! But as these strains arose, and higher rung The melody of her inspiring tongue, When grander swelled the tribute of her song In thought which challenged e'en the choral throng, That by the Throne its tribute anthems sing In praise forever to the heavenly King, Then stayed they, breathless, by its power enchained, Which in each strain new force and beauty gained. XXXIII. Soon through the glowing air the hosts of Heaven Throng to the gate as flames a summer levin, In flashing bands that poise in upper air As if they hung enchained in transports there ; With stooping heads, and faces all aglow, Drink in the strains that greet them from below ; While gathering courts and streets begin to crowd With throngs whose hurrying feet speed from abroad, And upward from the plains the golden stair Is filled with hast'ning forms, divinely fair. Still sweeter grows the song, still richer fall The silvery numbers list'ning hearts enthral, Until the rising flood of melody Sweeps out as billows on a stormy sea, Save that the waves that beat the sounding shore In floods of liquid song their billows pour ! And as the echoes on the beaten coast In the high cliffs and mountain crags are lost, So, rising higher in its upward flight, Sweeps on the song in ever-new delight, Until the shining ranks that wait upon The courts of God and dwell about his throne, The choir whose songs eternity has known, WITHIN THE GATES 239 Catch the sweet notes, and hush the tuneful tongue Upon whose strains the ear of God has hung ; And Heaven grows silent as he stoops the ear The song of the glad soul redeemed to hear : With joy unbends the broad, Eternal brow, And all the heavens in smiles benignant glow ; So sweet to God the songs triumphant rise Of souls redeemed who mount the shining skies ! XXXIV. When from her lips the echoes died away, And silence, new in Heaven, around her lay, A moment life itself restrained its breath, And kissed with ashen lips the cheek of Death ; Then through the waveless air a mighty sound, That shook the Throne itself, with swift rebound Swelled up in cheers and shouts of glad acclaim, And rapturous praise to the Eternal Name, Whose love had wrought so grandly in the soul Which with such praise his name could thus extoL Then gathered there about this joyous band Of all the angel hosts the great and grand ; With them the saints who mortal were at birth, And who long time had walked the lowly earth ; For some were there a thousand years before, Had trod like them the far Judean shore. Here Moses shone ; Elijah, robed in white ; Miriam and Aaron ; Israel's famed knight, Brave Joshua ; King David, Seth, and Lot : Old Abraham, fair as the morn ; and not The least, nor yet the last, Isaiah stood, With meek Elisha, in that multitude ; And all their faces shone as never sun With brightness far too grand to look upon. XXXV. And there was joy supreme ! In realms below, The grandeur of its flights Earth cannot know. Seraphic greetings cheer the quivering souls, The smile of God across their vision rolls : 240 THE STORY OF JUDETH The saints exult ; fair beings from afar, "Who claim for homes the farthest shining star, Greet them with praise ; and kisses soft as down The smiles of the beloved delightful crown. Then through the streets, aglow with blazing gems, White-robed the throng, and crowned with diadems, Lead on our band to Zion's crowning hill, Where sits the Lord of Hosts, eternal still ; And from his throne of light directs the course Of the far realms of the whole universe ! XXXVI. How shall we tell the glories that arise And fill with awe our wonder-wid'ning eyes ! How shall cold words the fervid lights convey Of the bright vision's dazzling array ? Where mansions tow'r in their majestic heights, Like terraced hills, succeeding flights on flights : Each flight is wrought of its peculiar stone, Of lustre such as Earth has never known ; Nor is one house, of all we passing meet, Whatever court we view or on what street, Like to its fellow built in form or kind, Nor known of Earth, by mortal hand designed. One laid in beryl ends in chrysolite ; The next of jacinth, emerald crowns its height ; From amethyst to chrysoprasus rise The towering walls the next to greet our eyes ; While sardonyx to sapphires next succeed, And sardius and jasper others lead ! In others chalcedony crowns the wall, While diamonds give their light and glow to all, As wrought between in ever-changing hue A thousand shades of beauty charm the view. So pure the stones, so limpid is the light, What might obscure, reveals to outer sight ; And ev'ry mansion of those tow'ring homes Clear as the day to gazing eye becomes. And these, how beautiful ! The charms of earth Are pitiable and all of little worth Compared with these ; and language hath not name, WITHIN THE GATES 241 So poor it is, their glories to proclaim ! Nor can it tell the beauty and the grace Of those who throng each shining dwelling-place. If you would see or dream of what is shown, As falls the light successive through each stone, Where thousand softened hues prismatic fall From ev'ry height and each succeeding wall, And burn and blaze, a flame that is a joy That, while it cheers, it never can destroy ; Within these courts and homes set laden trees That shed their fruits with perfume on each breeze ; There gardens plant, in them a thousand bovvers, Where springing buds burst ever into flowers ; Set fountains, where their ever-changing streams Cast up white mists through which the white light gleams ; And fill these gardens, groves, and bowers with song That hath no like in earth or human tongue, — Then gather there the children of some home Who through the sorrows of our Earth have come, And here united, an unbroken band, Forever housed in this delightful land, Robed in its hues celestial, with the light Of God's Eternal Throne before the sight, And this is Heaven ! with Eden still below, Where, as they will, their wand'ring feet may go ! XXXVII. Still up the height ! and yet so soft th' ascent, The gliding foot scarce to the pavement bent ; So grandly beautiful each changing scene, That left behind seems like it had not been ! And, as they journey, close at Lazarus' side Elijah, Moses, and the Saints divide His time in converse of the Earth below, And its fair scenes they once had joyed to know. So they conversed until of Christ they spoke, Then forth in loud acclaim in song they broke, And sang with voices sweet a heavenly psalm Of thanks to God and glory to the Lamb ; While Judeth led with still a sweeter strain, And sang in low, soft notes her song again. 242 THE STORY OF JUDETH Thus journeying with song and converse blent, Up the bright way together on they went, Until they pass the veil whose crystal hides The Throne of God, and light from light divides : When, lo ! the Throne, and Him who sits thereon, To sight immortal blinded, now is shown. XXXVIII. It is a glory tongue can never tell, If tipped with fire, attuned however well, That mystery mysterious power concealed, Never to mortal sight to be revealed Until the spirit mortal cease to know, And flies forever from the world below. Such God's decree, and our two friends now find That in his presence they at last stand blind, With groping hands, that in the glorious light Reach out and touch the borders of the night ! Abashed, confounded at this sudden change, To them as cruel as to others strange, They cry aloud in agony of fear. Then they who know, their cries of pleading hear ; And quick as thought an angel by them stands, And folds in his their outstretched, trembling hands ; He soothes their fears with words as kind as sweet, And leads them forth with slow and faltering feet Back through that veil, as clear as filmy glass : With throbbing eyes in darkness sealed they pass, When, with a blaze of glory, bursts the light With all the outspread scenes before the sight, More beautiful to them, from night set free, Than they had dreamed that aught of Heaven could be ! So sweet is sight to those who have been blind, That, when again this gracious gift they find, A thousand beauties do their eyes explore In form familiar never seen before ! XXXIX. A while in silence they about them gazed, Drank in the beauty that around them blazed WITHIN THE GATES 243 Transfixed upon the heights, where glowing lay The Plains of Glory stretching far away ; And farther on beyond the outer walls, Where, sheer in space unfathomed, downward falls The plummet sight, their eager, quick'ning gaze Catches the light of upward-streaming rays, And in their beams they recognize the Earth, And the fair spot on it which gave them birth ! 11 Look ! Look ! " cried Judeth, with a glad delight ; " Our little world once more beams on my sight ! Oh, how I long to tread those hills again, And snatch our loved ones from their life of pain ! " Abashed at what she said, her hands she threw Before her eyes and hid her face from view. " Fear not, my sister ! " then the Angel said ; u Full many spirits to those shores have fled, To plead with those who linger on Time's strand, And win their spirits to this heavenly land. And more, my brother, — let not this dismay, — To yonder Earth are calling you away Fond voices, weak and hoarse with falling tears ; While yonder, near that earthly tomb, appears He whom the worlds obey, and at his call Your clay reposing there shall break its thrall, While your plumed spirit shall return again And take once more its burdened life of pain." XL. " Shall I not, too, return ? " fair Judeth cried ; " And with my burdened life walk by his side ? To dwell forever here, of sorrow free, With him enchained, would not be Heaven to me ! May I not go with him ? " " Stay, spirit, stay ! Angel of light ! Nay, drive me not away ! How can I dwell on Earth, and Heaven know As I have known ! It would be Hell below ! Unsay those cruel words ; or, if for me Is this hard fate of Heaven's divine decree, Let her stay here until I shall return, A light on Zion's Hill for me to burn ! "