He gazed upon him long, With pondering, pitying eyes, As the leech on the sick whose hidden ail All herbs and drugs defies; And, "Hath thy heart might," at last, "to-night," He to Sir Pavon said, When all men sleep, thy vigil to keep, In the crypt among the dead? "Night hath many a tongue, her black hours among, Less false than the tongues of Day, While Mercy the prayer hath full leisure to hear, Of all who wake to pray. "The mute swart queen hides many a sin, But oft to the sinner's heart Remorse, with the tale, she sends to wail, And thus atones in part." "But if the man was his, I'll freely give thee thrice, In broad, bright rounds of ruddy gold, The pittance of his price." "Gold buys this world, not heaven. This cannot make thee whole. Each stripe that rends the slave's poor flesh, It hurts his Master's soul; "And if the slave doth die,” He said beneath his breath, "I fear the Master's sprite for aye Rots in the second death. "But be of better cheer. Since thou thy sin canst see, 'Tis plain thy guardian angel back Hath flown from heaven to thee. "The soul benumbed by sin, And limb that's numb with frost, Are saved by timely aches. If first They reach the fire, they're lost. "The Sun of righteousness, Whose beaming smile on high, With light, and life, and love doth fill The mansions of the sky, "And kindles risen souls Unto a rapturous glow, Who duly sought his scattered rays, To bask in them below, "Seems but a hideous glare Of blazing pangs untold, To those whom death hath made more pale, But could not make more cold. "Full many a man like thee, Unless by devils driven, Would never turn his laggard steps To hurry unto heaven. "Thank God, who oped thine ear Unto their dreary lay, Ere came the night that summoned thee To chant with them for aye! "That holy text, which through Their gnashing teeth they laughed And screamed. I read thee yester eve, And they with wonted craft "Told o'er, their fright and pain That thou shouldst come to share, As birds by hissing serpents scared Drop down, through sheer despair. "But in its two pure hands Each holy Scripture still Doth bear a blessing for the good, A curse unto the ill. "Heed thou, but do not fear Too much their threatening voice, Who tremble and believe. Thou yet Believing mayst rejoice. "Take up thy cross with speed. This penance shalt thou do; Thyself in sad humility To seek Christ's servant go, "Both near and far; and dry His tears with thine, if still His limbs the toil-exacting earth In misery tread and till." His forehead from his hands Upraised the haggard guest: "And even here, and even yet, For me no heavenly rest!" The abbot shook his head: "God help thee now, poor son! The heavenly rest is but for those Who heavenly work have done. "Strife is the bridge o'er hell 'Twixt sin and sin forgiven; Still purgatory lies between The wicked world and heaven. "The priceless pearl is worth The plunge through whelming floods. The bitter years man loathes are but Eternity's green buds. "Thou hast, in Satan's ranks, To harm been brisk and brave; Thou wilt not shrink, when sent by Christ To suffer and to save." PART V. Sir Pavon's gallant steed was dead; |