The Golden Legend Part 25

Wilt thou so love me after death?

_Prince Henry._ In life's delight, in death's dismay, In storm and suns.h.i.+ne, night and day, In health, in sickness, in decay, Here and hereafter, I am thine!

Thou hast Fastrada's ring. Beneath The calm, blue waters of thine eyes Deep in thy steadfast soul it lies, And, undisturbed by this world's breath, With magic light its jewels s.h.i.+ne!

This golden ring, which thou hast worn Upon thy finger since the morn, Is but a symbol and a semblance, An outward fas.h.i.+on, a remembrance, Of what thou wearest within unseen, O my Fastrada, O my queen!

Behold! the hilltops all aglow With purple and with amethyst; While the whole valley deep below Is filled, and seems to overflow, With a fast-rising tide of mist.

The evening air grows damp and chill; Let us go in.

_Elsie._ Ah, not so soon.

See yonder fire! It is the moon Slow rising o'er the eastern hill.

It glimmers on the forest tips, And through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, And makes the heart in love with night.

_Prince Henry._ Oft on this terrace, when the day Was closing, have I stood and gazed, And seen the landscape fade away, And the white vapors rise and drown Hamlet and vineyard, tower and town While far above the hilltops blazed.

But men another hand than thine Was gently held and clasped in mine; Another head upon my breast Was laid, as thine is now, at rest.

Why dost thou lift those tender eyes With so much sorrow and surprise?

A minstrel's, not a maiden's hand, Was that which in my own was pressed.

A manly form usurped thy place, A beautiful, but bearded face, That now is in the Holy Land, Yet in my memory from afar Is s.h.i.+ning on us like a star.

But linger not. For while I speak, A sheeted spectre white and tall, The cold mist climbs the castle wall, And lays his hand upon thy cheek!

(_They go in._)

EPILOGUE.

THE TWO RECORDING ANGELS ASCENDING.

_The Angel of Good Deeds (with closed book_). G.o.d sent his messenger the rain, And said unto the mountain brook, "Rise up, and from thy caverns look And leap, with naked, snow-white feet.

From the cool hills into the heat Of the broad, arid plain."

G.o.d sent his messenger of faith, And whispered in the maiden's heart, "Rise up, and look from where thou art, And scatter with unselfish hands Thy freshness on the barren sands And solitudes of Death."

O beauty of holiness, Of self-forgetfulness, of lowliness!

O power of meekness, Whose very gentleness and weakness Are like the yielding, but irresistible air!

Upon the pages Of the sealed volume that I bear, The deed divine Is written in characters of gold, That never shall grow old, But all through ages Burn and s.h.i.+ne, With soft effulgence!

O G.o.d! it is thy indulgence That fills the world with the bliss Of a good deed like this!

_The Angel of Evil Deeds (with open book)._ Not yet, not yet Is the red sun wholly set, But evermore recedes, While open still I bear The Book of Evil Deeds, To let the breathings of the upper air Visit its pages and erase The records from its face!

Fainter and fainter as I gaze On the broad blaze The glimmering landscape s.h.i.+nes, And below me the black river Is hidden by wreaths of vapor!

Fainter and fainter the black lines Begin to quiver Along the whitening surface of the paper; Shade after shade The terrible words grow faint and fade, And in their place Runs a white s.p.a.ce!

Down goes the sun!

But the soul of one, Who by repentance Has escaped the dreadful sentence, s.h.i.+nes bright below me as I look.

It is the end!

With closed Book To G.o.d do I ascend.

Lo! over the mountain steeps A dark, gigantic shadow sweeps Beneath my feet; A blackness inwardly brightening With sullen heat, As a storm-cloud lurid with lightning.

And a cry of lamentation, Repeated and again repeated, Deep and loud As the reverberation Of cloud answering unto cloud, Swells and rolls away in the distance, As if the sheeted Lightning retreated, Baffled and thwarted by the wind's resistance.

It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since G.o.d suffers him to be, He, too, is G.o.d's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood!