Of Edenhall, the youthful Lord
Bids sound the festal trumpet's call:
He rises at the banquet board,
And
cries, 'mid the drunken revelers all,
"Now
bring me the Luck of Edenhall!"
The butler hears the words with pain,
The house's oldest seneschal,
Takes
slow from its silken cloth again
The
drinking glass of crystal tall;
They call
it the Luck of Edenhall.
Then said the Lord: "This glass to praise,
Fill with red wine from Portugal!"
The gray-beard with trembling hand obeys;
A purple light shines over all,
It
beams from the Luck of Edenhall.
Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light:
"This glass of flashing crystal tall
Gave to my sires the Fountain-Sprite
She wrote in it: If this glass doth fall,
Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!
"'T was right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep draughts drink we right willingly;
And willingly ring, with merry call,
Kling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!"
First rings it deep, and full, and mild,
Like to the song of a nightingale;
Then like the roar of a torrent wild;
Then mutters at last like the thunder's
fall,
The glorious Luck of Edenhall.
"For its keeper takes a race of might,
The fragile goblet of crystal tall;
It has lasted longer than is right;
Kling! klang!—with a harder blow than all
Will I try the Luck of Edenhall!"
As the goblet ringing flies apart,
Suddenly cracks the vaulted hall;
And
through the rift, the wild flames start;
The
guests in dust are scattered all,
With the
breaking Luck of Edenhall.
In storms the foe, with fire and sword;
He in the night had scaled the wall,
Slain by the sword lies the youthful Lord,
But holds in his hand the crystal tall,
The shattered Luck of Edenhall.
On the morrow the butler gropes alone,
The gray-bird in the desert hall,
He seeks his Lord's burnt skeleton,
He seeks in the dismal ruin's fall
The shards of the Luck of Edenhall.
"The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside,
Down must the stately columns fall;
Glass is this earth's Luck and Pride;
In athoms shall
fall this earthly ball
One day like the
Luck of Edenhall!"
THE ELECTED
KNIGHT.
FROM THE DANISH.
[The following strange and somewhat mystical ballad is from Nyerup and
Rahbek's Danske Viser of the Middle Ages. It seems to refer to
the first preaching of Christianity in the North, and to the institution
of Knight-Errantry. The three maidens I suppose to be Faith, Hope, and
Charity. The irregularities of the original have been carefully
preserved in the translation.]
Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain,
Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide,
But never, ah never can meet with the man
A tilt with him dare ride.
He saw under the hill-side
A
Knight full well equipped;
His steed was
black, his helm was barred;
He was riding
at full speed.
He wore upon his spurs
Twelve
little golden birds;
Anon he
spurred his steed with a clang,
And there
sat all the birds and sang.
He wore upon his mail
Twelve
little golden wheels;
Anon in eddies the
wild wind blew,
And round and round the
wheels they flew.
He wore before his breast
A
lance that was poised in rest,
And it was
sharper than diamond stone,
It made Sir
Oluf's heart to groan.
He wore upon his helm
A
wreath of ruddy gold;
And that gave him the
Maidens Three,
The youngest was fair to
behold.
Sir Oluf questioned the Knight eftsoon
If he were come from heaven down;
"Art thou Christ of Heaven," quoth he;
"So will I yield me unto thee."
"I am not Christ the Great,
Thou
shallt not yield thee
yet;
I am an Unknown Knight,
Three modest Maidens have me bedight."
"Art thou a Knight elected,
And
have three Maidens thee bedight;
So shalt
thou ride a tilt this day,
For all the
maidens' honor!"
The first tilt they together rode,
They put their steeds to the test;
The second tilt they together rode,
They proved their manhood best.
The third tilt they together rode,
Neither of them would yield;
The
fourth tilt they together rode,
The both
fell on the field.
Now lie the lords upon the plains,
And their blood runs unto death;
Now
sit the Maidens in the high tower,
The
youngest sorrows till death.
THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S
SUPPER.
FROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNOR
Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The church of
the village
Stood gleaming white in the
morning's sheen. On the spire of the belfry,
Tipped
with a vane of metal, the friendly frames of the Spring-sun
Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles
aforetime.
Clear was the heaven and blue,
and May, with her cap crowned with roses,
Stood
in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet
Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace! With lips
rosy-tinted
Whispered the race of the
flowers, and merry on balancing branches
Birds
were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest.
Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a
leaf-woven arbor
Stood its old-fashioned
gate; and within upon each cross of iron
Hung
was a sweet-scented garland, new twined by the hands of affection.
Even the dial, that stood on a fountain among the
departed
(There full a hundred years had it
stood), was embellished with blossoms.
Like
to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet,
Who on his birthday is crowned by children and
children's children,
So stood the ancient
prophet, and mute with pencil of iron
Marked
on the table of stone, and measured the swift-changing moment,
While all around at his feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet.
Also the church within was adorned, for this was the
season
In which the young, their parent's
hope, and the loved-ones of heaven,
Should
at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their baptism.
Therefore each nook and corner was swept and cleaned,
and the dust was
Blown from the walls and
ceiling, and from the oil-painted benches.
There
stood the church like a garden; the Feast of the Leafy Pavilions[A]
Saw we in living
presentment. From noble arms on the church wall
Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of
oakwood
Budded once more anew, as aforetime
the rod before Aaron.
Wreathed thereon was
the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed with silver,
Under its conopy fastened, a necklace had on of
wind-flowers.
But in front of the choir,
round the altarpiece painted by Horberg,[B]
Crept a garland gigantic; and bright-curling tresses of
angels
Peeped, like the sun from a cloud,
out of the shadowy leaf-work.
Likewise
the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling,
And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in
the sockets.
Loud rang the bells already;
the thronging crowd was assembled
Far from
valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching.
Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones from the
organ,
Hover like voices from God, aloft
like invisible spirits.
Like as Elias in
heaven, when he cast off from him his mantle,
Even so cast off the soul its garments of earth; and with one
voice
Chimed in the congregation, and sang
an anthem immortal
Of the sublime Wallin,[C] of David's harp in the North-land
Tuned to the choral of Luther; the song on its powerful
pinions
Took every living soul, and lifted
it gently to heaven.
And
every face did shine like the Holy One's face upon Tabor.
Lo! there entered then into the church the Reverend
Teacher.
Father he hight and he was
in the parish; a christianly plainness
Clothed
from his head to his feet the old man of seventy winters.
Friendly was he to behold, and glad as the heralding
angel
Walked he among the crowds, but still
a contemplative grandeur
Lay on his
forehead as clear, as on a moss-covered grave-stone a sunbeam.
As in his inspiration (an evening twilight that faintly
Gleams in the human soul, even now, from the day of creation)
Th' Artist, the friend of heaven, imagines Saint John
when in Patmos;—
Gray, with his eyes
uplifted to heaven, so seemed then the old man;
Such was the glance of his eye, and such were his tresses of
silver.
All the congregation arose in the
pews that were numbered,
But with a cordial
look, to the right and the left hand, the old man
Nodding all hail and peace, disappeared in the innermost
chancel.
Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian
service,
Singing and prayer, and at last an
ardent discourse from the old man.
Many a
moving word and warning, that out of the heart came
Fell like the dew of the morning, like manna on those in the
desert.
Afterwards, when all was finished,
the Teacher reentered the chancel,
Followed
therein by the young. On the right hand the boys had their places
Delicate figures, with close-curling hair and cheeks
rosy-blooming.
But on the left-hand of
these, there stood the tremulous lilies,
Tinged
with the blushing light of the morning, the diffident maidens,—
Folding their hands in prayer, and their eyes cast down
on the pavement.
Now came, with question
and answer, the catechism. In the beginning
Answered
the children with troubled and faltering voice, but the old man's
Glances of kindness encouraged them soon, and the
doctrines eternal
Flowed, like the waters
of fountains, so clear from lips unpolluted.
Whene'er
the answer was closed, and as oft as they named the Redeemer,
Lowly louted the boys, and lowly the maidens all
courtesied.
Friendly the Teacher stood,
like an angel of light there among them,
And
to the children explained he the holy, the highest, in few words,
Thorough, yet simple and clear, for sublimity always is
simple,
Both in sermon and song a child can
seize on its meaning.
Even as the green-growing bud is unfolded
when Spring-tide approaches
Leaf by leaf is
developed, and, warmed by the radiant sunshine,
Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the perfected
blossom
Opens its odorous chalice, and
rocks with its crown in the breezes,
So was
unfolded here the Christian lore of salvation,
Line by line from the soul of childhood.
The fathers and mothers
Stood
behind them in tears, and were glad at each well-worded answer.
Now went the old man up to the altar;—and
straightway transfigured
(So did it seem
unto me) was then the affectionate Teacher,
Like
the Lord's Prophet sublime, and awful as Death and as Judgment
Stood he, the God-commissioned, the soul-searcher,
earthward descending,
Glances, sharp as a
sword, into hearts, that to him were transparent
Shot he; his voice was deep, was low like the thunder afar
off.
So on a sudden transfigured he stood
there, he spake and he questioned.
"This is the faith of the Fathers, the faith the
Apostles delivered,
This is moreover the
faith whereunto I baptized you, while still ye
Lay on your mothers' breasts, and nearer the portals of
heaven.
Slumbering received you then the
Holy Church in its bosom;
Wakened
from sleep are ye now, and the light in the radiant splendor
Rains from the heaven downward;—to-day on the
threshhold of childhood
Kindly she frees
you again, to examine and make your election,
For she knows nought of compulsion, only conviction desireth.
This is the hour of your trial, the turning-point of
existence,
Seed for the coming days;
without revocation departeth
Now from your
lips the confession; Bethink ye, before ye make answer!
Think not! O think not with guile to deceive the
questioning Teacher.
Sharp is his eye
to-day, and a curse ever rests upon falsehood.
Enter not with a lie on Life's journey; the multitude hears
you,
Brothers and sisters and parents, what
dear upon earth is and holy
Standeth before
your sight as a witness; the Judge everlasting
Looks from the sun down upon you, and angels in waiting
beside him
Grave your confession in letters
of fire, upon tablets eternal.
Thus
then,—believe ye in God, in the Father who this world created?
Him who redeemed it, the Son, and the Spirit where both
are united?
Will ye promise me here (a holy
promise), to cherish
God more than all
things earthly, and every man as a brother?
Will
ye promise me here, to confirm your faith by your living,
Th' heavenly faith of affection! to hope, to forgive,
and to suffer,
Be what it may your
condition, and walk before God in uprightness?
Will ye promise me this before God and man?'—With a
clear voice
Answered the young men Yes! and
Yes! with lips softly-breathing
Answered
the maidens eke. Then dissolved from the brow of the Teacher
Clouds with the thunders therein, and he spake on in
accents more gentle,
Soft as the evening's
breath, as harps by Babylon's rivers.
"Hail, then, hail to you all! To the heirdom of heaven
be ye welcome!
Children no more from this
day, but by covenant brothers and sisters!
Yet,—for
what reason not children? Of such is the kingdom of heaven.
Here upon earth an assemblage of children, in heaven
one father,
Ruling them as his own
household,—forgiving in turn and chastising,
That is of human life a picture, as Scripture has taught us.
Blessed are the pure before God! Upon purity and upon
virtue
Resteth the Christian Faith; she
herself from on high is descended.
Strong
as a man and pure as a child, is the sum of the doctrine,
Which the Godlike delivered, and on the cross suffered
and died for.
O! as ye wander this day from
childhood's sacred asylum
Downward and ever
downward, and deeper in Age's chill valley,
O!
how soon will ye come,—too soon!—and long to turn backward
Up to its hill-tops again, to the sun-illumined, where
Judgment
Stood like a father before you,
and Pardon, clad like a mother,
Gave you
her hand to kiss, and the loving heart was forgiven,
Life was a play and your hands grasped after the roses of
heaven!
Seventy years have I lived already;
the Father eternal
Gave to me gladness and
care; but the loveliest hours of existence,
When
I have steadfastly gazed in their eyes, I have instantly known them,
Known them all, all again;—they were my
childhood's acquaintance.
Therefore take
from henceforth, as guides in the paths of existence,
Prayer, with her eyes raised to heaven, and Innocence, bride
of man's childhood.
Innocence, child
beloved, is a guest from the world of the blessed.
Beautiful, and in her hand a lily; on life's roaring billows
Swings she in safety, she heeded them not, in the ship
she was sleeping.
Calmly she gazes around
in the turmoil of men; in the desert
Angels
descend and minister unto her; she herself knoweth
Naught of
her glorious attendance; but follows faithful and humble,
Follows so long as she may her friend; O do not reject
her,
For she cometh from God and she
holdeth the keys of the heavens.—
Prayer
is Innocence' friend; and willingly flieth incessant
'Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.
Son of Eternity, fettered in Time, and an exile, the
Spirit
Tugs at his chains evermore, and
struggles like flames ever upward.
Still he
recalls with emotion his father's manifold mansions.
Thinks of the land of his fathers, where blossomed more
freshly the flowers,
Shone a more beautiful
sun, and he played with the winged angels.
Then
grows the earth too narrow, too close; and homesick for heaven
Longs the wanderer again; and the Spirit's longings are
worship;
Worship is called his most
beautiful hour, and its tongue is entreaty.
Ah!
when the infinite burden of life descendeth upon us,
Crushes to earth our hope, and, under the earth, in the
grave-yard,—
Then it is good to
pray unto God; for his sorrowing children
Turns
he ne'er from his door, but he heals and helps and consoles them.
Yet it is better to pray when all things are prosperous
with us,
Pray in fortunate days, for life's
most beautiful Fortune
Kneels down before
the Eternal's throne; and, with hands interfolded,
Praises thankful and moved the only Giver of blessings.
Or do ye know, ye children, one blessing that comes not
from Heaven?
What has mankind forsooth, the
poor! that it has not received?
Therefore,
fall in the dust and pray! The seraphs adoring
Cover with pinions six their face in the glory of him who
Hung his masonry pendant on naught, when the world he
created.
Earth declareth his might, and the
firmament uttereth his glory.
Races blossom
and die, and stars fall downward from heaven,
Downward like withered leaves: at the last stroke of
midnight, millenniums
Lay
themselves down at his feet, and he sees them, but counts them as
nothing.
Who shall stand in his presence?
The wrath of the Judge is terrific,
Casting
the insolent down at a glance. When he speaks in his anger
Hillocks skip like the kid, and the mountains leap like
the roe-buck.
Yet,—why are ye afraid,
ye children? This awful avenger,
Ah! is a
merciful God! God's voice was not in the earthquake,
Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering
breezes.
Love is the root of creation;
God's essence; worlds without number
Lie in
his bosom like children; he made them for this purpose only.
Only to love and to be loved again, he breathed forth
his spirit
Into the slumbering dust, and
upright standing, it laid its
Hand on its
heart, and felt it was warm with a flame out of heaven.
Quench, O quench not that flame! It is the breath of
your being.
Love is life, but hatred is
death. Not father nor mother
Loved
you, as God has loved you; for it was that you may be happy
Gave he his only son. When he bowed down his head in
the death-hour
Solemnized Love its triumph;
the sacrifice then was completed.
Lo! then
was rent on a sudden the vail of the temple, dividing
Earth and heaven apart, and the dead from their sepulchers
rising
Whispered with pallid lips and low
in the ears of each other
Th' answer, but
dreamed of before, to creation's enigma,—Atonement!
Depths of Love are Atonement's depths, for Love is
Atonement.
Therefore, child of mortality,
love thou the merciful Father;
Wish what
the Holy One wishes, and not from fear, but affection;
Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is
willing;
Perfect was before God, and
perfect is Love, and Love only.
Lovest thou
God as thou oughtest, then lovest thou likewise thy brethren;
One is the sun in Heaven, and one, only one is love
also.
Bears not each human figure the
godlike stamp on his forehead?
Readest thou
not in his face thine origin? Is he not sailing
Lost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is he not guided
By the same stars that guide thee? Why shouldst thou
hate then thy brother?
Hateth he thee,
forgive! For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter
Of the Eternal's language;—on earth it is called
Forgiveness!
Knowest thou Him, who forgave,
with the crown of thorns round his temples?
Earnestly
prayed for his foes, for his murderers? Say, dost thou know him?
Ah! thou confessest his name, so follow likewise his
example,
Think of thy brother no ill, but
throw a vail over his failings,
Guide the
erring aright; for the good, the heavenly shepherd
Took the lost lamb in his arms, and bore it back to its
mother.
This is the fruit of Love, and it is by its fruits that
we know it.
Love is the creature's welfare,
with God; but Love among mortals
Is but an endless sigh!
He longs, and endures, and stands waiting,
Suffers
and yet rejoices, and smiles with tears on his eyelids.
Hope,—so is called upon earth, his recompense.—Hope,
the befriending,
Does what she can, for she
points evermore up to heaven, and faithful
Plunges
her anchor's peak in the depths of the grave, and beneath it
Paints a more beautiful world, a dim, but a sweet play
of shadows!
Races, better than we, have
leaned on her wavering promise,
Having
naught else beside Hope. Then praise we our Father in Heaven,
Him, who has given us more; for to us has Hope been
illumined,
Groping no longer in night; she
is Faith, she is living assurance.
Faith is
enlightened Hope; she is light, is the eye of affection
Dreams of the longing interprets, and carves their
visions in marble.
Faith is the sun of
life; and her countenance shines like the Prophet's,
For she has looked upon God; the heaven on its stable
foundation
Draws she with chains down to
earth, and the New Jerusalem sinketh
Splendid
with portals twelve in golden vapors descending.
There enraptured she wanders, and looks at the figures
majestic,
Fears not the winged crowd, in
the midst of them all is her homestead.
Therefore
love and believe; for works will follow spontaneous
Even as day does the sun; the Right from the Good is an
offspring,
Love in a bodily shape; and
Christian works are no more than
Animate
Love and faith, as flowers are the animate spring-tide.
Works do follow us all unto God; there stand and bear
witness
Not what they seemed,—but
what they were only. Blessed is he who
Hears their confession secure; they are mute upon earth until
death's hand
Opens the mouth of the silent.
Ye children does Death e'er alarm you?
Death
is the brother of Love, twin-brother is he, and is only
More austere to behold. With a kiss upon lips that are
fading
Takes he the soul and departs, and
rocked in arms of affection,
Places the
ransomed child, new born, 'fore the face of its father.
Sounds of his coming already I hear,—see dimly
his pinions,
Swart as the night, but with
stars strewn upon them! I fear not before him.
Death is only release, and in mercy is mute. On his bosom
Freer breathes, in its coolness, my breast; and face to
face standing
Look I on God as he is, a sun
unpolluted by vapors;
Look on the light of
the ages I loved, the spirits majestic,
Nobler,
better than I; they stand by the throne all transfigured,
Vested in white, and with harps of gold, and are
singing an anthem,
Writ in the climate of
heaven, in the language spoken by angels.
You,
in like manner, ye children beloved, he one day shall gather,
Never forgets he the weary;—then welcome, ye
loved ones, hereafter!
Meanwhile forget not
the keeping of vows, forget not the promise,
Wander
from holiness onward to holiness; earth shall ye heed not;
Earth is but dust and heaven is light; I have pledged
you to heaven.
God of the Universe, hear
me! thou fountain of Love everlasting,
Hark
to the voice of thy servant! I send up my prayer to thy heaven!
Let me hereafter not miss at thy throne one spirit of
all these,
Whom thou hast given me here! I
have loved them all like a father.
May they
bear witness for me, that I taught them the way of salvation,
Faithful, so far as I knew of thy word: again may they
know me,
Fall on their Teacher's breast, and before thy face may
I place them,
Pure as they now are, but
only more tried, and exclaiming with gladness,
Father, lo! I am here, and the children, whom thou hast given
me!"
Weeping he spake in these words; and now at the beck of
the old man
Knee against knee they knitted
a wreath round the altar's enclosure.
Kneeling
he read then the prayers of the consecration, and softly
With him the children read; at the close, with
tremulous accents,
Asked he the peace of
heaven, a benediction upon them.
Now should
have ended his task for the day; the following Sunday
Was for the young appointed to eat of the Lord's holy Supper.
Sudden, as struck from the clouds, stood the Teacher
silent and laid his
Hand on his forehead,
and cast his looks upward; while thoughts high and holy
Flew through the midst of his soul, and his eyes
glanced with wonderful brightness.
"On the next Sunday, who knows! perhaps I shall rest in the
grave-yard!
Some one perhaps of yourselves,
a lily broken untimely,
Bow down his head
to the earth; why delay I? the hour is accomplished.
Warm is the heart;—I will so! for to-day grows the
harvest of heaven.
What I began accomplish
I now; for what failing therein is
I, the
old man, will answer to God and the reverend father.
Say to me only, ye children, ye denizens new-come in heaven,
Are ye ready this day to eat of the bread of Atonement?
What it denoteth, that know ye full well, I have told
it you often.
Of the new covenant a symbol
it is, of Atonement a token,
'Stablished
between earth and heaven. Man by his sins and transgressions
Far has wandered from God, from his essence. 'Twas in
the beginning
Fast by the Tree of Knowledge
he fell, and it hangs its crown o'er the
Fall to this day; in the Thought is the Fall; in the Heart
the Atonement.
Infinite is the Fall, the
Atonement infinite likewise.
See! behind
me, as far as the old man remembers, and forward,
Far as Hope in her flight can reach with her wearied pinions,
Sin and Atonement incessant go through the lifetime of
mortals.
Brought forth is sin full-grown;
but Atonement sleeps in our bosoms
Still as
the cradled babe; and dreams of heaven and of angels
Cannot wake to sensation; is like the tones in the harp's
strings,
Spirits imprisoned, that wait
evermore the deliverer's finger.
Therefore,
ye children beloved, descended the Prince of Atonement,
Woke the slumberer from sleep, and he stands now with
eyes all resplendent,
Bright as the vault
of the sky, and battles with Sin and o'ercomes her
Downward to earth he came and transfigured thence reascended,
Not from the heart in likewise, for there he still
lives in the Spirit,
Loves and atones
evermore. So long as Time is, is Atonement.
Therefore
with reverence receive this day her visible token.
Tokens are dead if the things do not live. The light
everlasting
Unto the blind man is not, but
is born of the eye that has vision.
Neither
in bread nor in wine, but in the heart that is hallowed
Lieth forgivenes
enshrined; the intention alone of amendment.
Fruits
of the earth ennobles to heavenly things, and removes all
Sin and the guerdon of sin. Only Love with his arms
wide extended,
Penitence weeping and
praying; the Will that is tried, and whose gold flows
Purified forth from the flames; in a word, mankind by
Atonement
Breaketh Atonement's bread, and
drinketh Atonement's wine cup.
But he who
cometh up hither, unworthy with hate in his bosom.
Scoffing at men and at God, is guilty of Christ's blessed
body,
And the Redeemer's blood! To himself
he eateth and drinketh
Death and doom! And
from this, preserve us, thou heavenly Father!
Are ye ready, ye children, to eat of the bread of Atonement?"
Thus with emotion he asked, and together answered the
children
Yes! with deep sobs interrupted.
Then read he the due supplications,
Read
the Form of Communion, and in chimed the organ and anthem;
O! Holy Lamb of God, who takest away our
transgressions.
Hear us! give us thy peace!
have mercy, have mercy upon us!
Th' old
man, with trembling hand, and heavenly pearls on his eyelids,
Filled now the chalice and paten, and dealt round the
mystical symbols.
O! then seemed it to me,
as if God, with the broad eye of mid-day,
Clearer
looked in at the windows, and all the trees in the churchyard
Bowed down their summits of green and the grass on the
graves 'gan to shiver.
But in the children
(I noted it well; I knew it) there ran a
Tremor
of holy rapture along through their ice-cold members.
Decked like an altar before them, there stood the green
earth, and above it
Heaven opened itself,
as of old before Stephen; there saw they
Radiant
in glory the Father, and on his right hand the Redeemer.
Under them hear they the clang of harp-strings, and
angels from gold clouds
Beckon to them like
brothers, and fan with their pinions of purple.
Closed was the Teacher's task, and with heaven in their
hearts and their faces,
Up rose the
children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely,
Downward to kiss that reverend hand, but all of them pressed
he
Moved to his bosom, and laid, with a
prayer, his hands full of blessings,
Now on
the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses.
Transcriber's Notes
Inconsistent hyphenation is retained from original.
Page 14
Moulded it into into a pipe-head,
One 'into' removed.
Page 60, 240
The
pigeon is referred to as Omeme or Omemee. No change.
Page 100, 185
The
war-club is referred to as Pugamaugun and Puggawaugun. No change.
Page 187, line 124
Like the eyes of wolves
glared at him
Punctuation missing. Added period.
Page 198, line 105
Black his moccassins and
leggins,
'leggins' is a possible typo for 'leggings'.
Unchanged.
Note: The following poems were added by the publisher, but were not shown
in the Table of Contents. The page numbering makes these poems appear to
be out of place.
The Skeleton in the Armor
Page 149
Inconsistent indentation retained.
Page 150
To hear my story,
Comma
retained from scan.
Page 151
Death! was the helmsmans hail
Semicolon added--not visible in scan of original.
Page 153, footnote
'orthographpy' changed to
'orthography'.
Page 160
Then mutters at last like the
thunders fall,
Added apostrophe: thunders becomes thunder's.
Page 160
Kling! klang!--with a harder blow
than all
'all' missing from scan. Added.
The Elected Knight
Page 161
In athoms shall fall this earthly
ball
'athoms' is likely a typo for 'atoms'. Unchanged.
Page 163
Thou shallt not yield the yet;
'shallt' unchanged from original.
The Children of the Lord's Supper
Page 166
While all around at his feet, and
eternity slumbered in quite.
Changed to:
While all around at his
feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet.
Page 169
Gleams in the human soul, even now,
from they day of creation)
'they day' changed to 'the day'.
Page 169
'Father he hight'
Unchanged.
An old form meaning 'Father was he called'.
Page 171
Even as the geen-growing bud is
unfolded when Spring-tide approaches
'geen-growing' changed to
'green-growing'.
Page 171
Line by line from the soul of
childhood The father and mothers
Period added after childhood.
Page 176
Naught of her glorious attendance;
but follows faithful and humble,
The word 'Naught' was either not
printed or was obsured during scan of copy. Added same.
Page 182
It but an endless sigh!
Changed to 'Is but an endless sigh!'
Page 189
Lieth forgivenes enshrined;
'forgivenes' unchanged.