And stretched her hands out, crying, "Mary mild, Didst thou not know, poor child, thy place was kept? And man's forgiveness may be true and sweet, And pleads with thee to raise it. Only Heaven Means crowned, not vanquished, when it says 'Forgiven !"" Back hurried Sister Monica; but where Was the poor beggar she left lying there? Gone; and she searched in vain, and sought the place For that wan woman, with the piteous face: But only Angela at the gateway stood, Laden with hawthorn blossoms from the wood. And never did a day pass by again, But the old portress, with a sigh of pain, Years passed away. Then, one dark day of dread She raised her wan right hand, and strove to speak. And the return; and then clear, low and calm, " and the psalm "Praise God for me, my sisters; Rang up to heaven, far and clear and wide, And thus the Legend ended. It may be That once seemed possible? Did we not hear And yet And now live idle in a vague regret. No star is ever lost we once have seen, We always may be what we might have been. Since Good, though only thought, has life and breath, God's life- -can always be redeemed from death; And evil, in its nature, is decay, And hour can blot it all away; any The hopes that lost in some far distance seem, May be the truer life, and this the dream. 園 ENVY. E was the first always: Fortune Shone bright in his face. I fought for years; with no effort We ran; my feet were all bleeding, Spite of his many successes When we erred, they gave him pity, But me-only shame. My home was still in the shadow, His lay in the sun: I longed in vain: what he asked for C |