The youths looked aside-to laugh there were a sin―

And the maidens' lips trembled with smiles shut within : Quoth the priest-"Thou art wild, pretty boy! Blessed she Who prefers at her bridal a brown rosary

To a worldly arraying!'
! ”

The bridegroom spake low, and led onward the bride,
And before the high altar they stood side by side:
The rite-book is opened, the rite is begun-

They have knelt down together to rise up as one—
Who laughed by the altar?

The maidens looked forward, the youths looked around,—
The bridegroom's eye flashed from his prayer at the sound ;
And each saw the bride, as if no bride she were,
Gazing cold at the priest, without gesture of prayer,
As he read from the psalter.

The priest never knew that she did so, but still
He felt a power on him, too strong for his will;
And whenever the Great Name was there to be read,
His voice sank to silence—THAT could not be said,
Or the air could not hold it.

"I have sinned," quoth he, "I have sinned, I wot
And the tears ran adown his old cheeks at the thought;
They dropped fast on the book; but he read on the same,----
And aye was the silence where should be the NAME,--

As the choristers told it.

The rite-book is closed, and the rite being done,
They who knelt down together, arise up as one:
Fair riseth the bride—Oh, a fair bride is she,-
But, for all (think the maidens) that brown rosary,
No saint at her praying!

What aileth the bridegroom? He glares blank and wide-Then suddenly turning, he kisseth the bride

His lip stung her with cold: she glanced upwardly mute : "Mine own wife," he said, and fell stark at her foot

In the word he was saying.

They have lifted him up,—but his head sinks away,-
And his face showeth bleak in the sunshine, and grey.
Leave him now where he lieth-for oh, never more
Will he kneel at an altar or stand on a floor!

Let his bride gaze upon him!

Long and still was her gaze, while they chafed him there,
And breathed in the mouth whose last life had kissed her.
But when they stood up-only they! with a start
The shriek from her soul struck her pale lips apart-
She has lived, and foregone him!

And low on his body she droppeth adown

“Didst call me thine own wife, beloved-thine own?
Then take thine own with thee! thy coldness is warm
To the world's cold without thee! Come, keep me from harm
In a calm of thy teaching!"

She looked in his face earnest long, as in sooth

There were hope of an answer,-and then kissed his mouth; And with head on his bosom, wept, wept bitterly,"Now, O God, take pity—take pity on me!—

She was 'ware of a shadow that crossed where she lay;
She was 'ware of a presence that withered the day—
Wild she sprang to her feet,—" I surrender to thee
The broken vow's pledge, the accursed rosary,-
I am ready for dying!"

She dashed it in scorn to the marble-paved ground,
Where it fell mute as snow; and a weird music-sound
Crept up, like a chill, up the aisles long and dim,—
As the fiends tried to mock at the choristers' hymn,
And moaned in the trying.

FOURTH PART.

ONORA looketh listlessly adown the garden walk :
"I am weary, O my mother, of thy tender talk!
I am weary of the trees a-waving to and fro—

Of the stedfast skies above, the running brooks below ;—

All things are the same but I;—only I am dreary;
And, mother, of my dreariness, behold me very weary.

"Mother, brother, pull the flowers I planted in the spring,
And smiled to think I should smile more upon their gathering.
The bees will find out other flowers-oh, pull them, dearest mine,
And carry them and carry me before St. Agnes' shrine."

Whereat they pulled the summer flowers she planted in the spring,

And her and them, all mournfully, to Agnes' shrine did bring.

She looked up to the pictured saint, and gently shook her head"The picture is too calm for me—too calm for me,” she said : "The little flowers we brought with us, before it we may lay, For those are used to look at Heaven,—but I must turn away,— Because no sinner under sun can dare or bear to gaze On God's or angel's holiness, except in Jesu's face.”

She spoke with passion after pause “And were it wisely done,
If we who cannot gaze above, should walk the earth alone?—
If we whose virtue is so weak, should have a will so strong,—
And stand blind on the rocks, to choose the right path from the
wrong?

To choose perhaps a love-lit hearth, instead of love and Heaven,-
A single rose, for a rose-tree, which beareth seven times seven?

A rose that droppeth from the hand, that fadeth in the breast,
Until, in grieving for the worst, we learn what is the best!"
Then breaking into tears,—" Dear God," she cried, "and must we

see

All blissful things depart from us, or ere we go to THEE?

We cannot guess Thee in the wood, or hear Thee in the wind?
Our cedars must fall round us, ere we see the light behind?
Ay sooth, we feel too strong in weal, to need Thee on that road;
But woe being come, the soul is dumb, that crieth not on 'God.'

Her mother could not speak for tears; she ever mused thus— "The bees will find out other flowers,—but what is left for us?" But her young brother stayed his sobs, and knelt beside her knee, "Thou sweetest sister in the world, hast never a word for me? She passed her hand across his face, she pressed it on his cheek, So tenderly, so tenderly-she needed not to speak.

The wreath which lay on shrine that day, at vespers bloomed no

more

The woman fair who placed it there, had died an hour before. Both perished mute, for lack of root, earth's nourishment to reach ;—

O reader, breathe (the ballad saith) some sweetness out of each!

A ROMANCE OF THE GANGES.

I.

SEVEN maidens 'neath the midnight
Stand near the river-sea,

Whose water sweepeth white around
The shadow of the tree.

The moon and earth are face to face,
And earth is slumbering deep;

The wave-voice seems the voice of dreams

That wander through her sleep.

The river floweth on.

II.

What bring they 'neath the midnight,
Beside the river-sea?

They bring that human heart, wherein
No nightly calm can be,—

That droppeth never with the wind,
Nor drieth with the dew

:

Oh, calm it, God! Thy calm is broad

To cover spirits, too.

III.

The river floweth on.

The maidens lean them over

The waters, side by side,

And shun each other's deepening eyes,

And gaze adown the tide :

For each within a little boat

A little lamp hath put,

And heaped for freight some lily's weight

Or scarlet rose half shut.

The river floweth on.

IV.

Of a shell of cocoa carven,

Each little boat is made:

Each carries a lamp, and carries a flower,
And carries a hope unsaid.

And when the boat hath carried the lamp
Unquenched, till out of sight,

The maidens are sure that love will endure,
But love will fail with light.

The river floweth on.

V.

Why, all the stars are ready
To symbolize the soul,

The stars, untroubled by the wind,
Unwearied as they roll:

And yet the soul, by instinct sad,

Reverts to symbols low—

To that small flame, whose very name,

Breathed o'er it, shakes it so.

The river floweth on

VI.

Six boats are on the river,
Seven maidens on the shore ;
While still above them stedfastly
The stars shine evermore.
Go, little boats, go soft and safe,
And guard the symbol spark!-
The boats aright go safe and bright
Across the waters dark.

The river floweth on.