As being the author of all our woes;
But he was refused, for fear, said they,
He would stop to eat apples on the way!
Abel came next, but petitioned in vain,
Because he might meet with his brother
Cain !

Noah, too, was refused, lest his weakness for wine

Should delay him at every tavern-sign ; And John the Baptist could not get a vote, On account of his old-fashioned camel'shair coat;

And the Penitent Thief, who died on the cross,

Was reminded that all his bones were broken!

Till at last, when each in turn had spoken,
The company being still at loss,
The Angel, who rolled away the stone,
Was sent to the sepulchre, all alone.
And filled with glory that gloomy prison,
And said to the Virgin, "The Lord is
arisen!"

The Cathedral bells ring.

But hark! the bells are beginning to chime;

And I feel that I am growing hoarse.
I will put an end to my discourse,
And leave the rest for some other time.
For the bells themselves are the best of

preachers;

Their brazen lips are learned teachers,
From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air,
Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw,
Shriller than trumpets under the Law,
Now a sermon, and now a prayer.
The clangorous hammer is the tongue,
This way, that way, beaten and swung,
That from mouth of brass, as from Mouth
of Gold,

May be taught the Testaments, New and
Old.

And above it the great cross-beam of wood Representeth the Holy Rood,

Upon which, like the bell, our hopes are bung.

And the wheel wherewith it is swayed and

rung

Is the mind of man, that round and round
Sways, and maketh the tongue to sound!
And the rope, with its twisted cordage three,
Denoteth the Scriptural Trinity
Of Morals, and Symbols, and History;
And the upward and downward motion show
That we touch upon matters high and low;

And the constant change and transmutation
Of action and of contemplation,
Downward, the Scripture brought from on
high,

Upward, exalted again to the sky;
Downward, the literal interpretation,
Upward, the Vision and Mystery!

And now, my hearers, to make an end,
I have only one word more to say;
In the church, in honor of Easter day
Will be presented a Miracle Play;
And I hope you will all have the grace to
attend.

Christ bring us at last to his felicity!
Pax vobiscum! et Benedicite !

IN THE CATHEDRAL.

CHANT.

Kyrie Eleison ! Christe Eleison !

ELSIE.

I am at home here in my Father's house! These paintings of the Saints upon the walls Have all familiar and benignant faces.

PRINCE HENRY.

The portraits of the family of God! Thine own hereafter shall be placed among them.

ELSIE.

How very grand it is and wonderful !
Never have I beheld a church so splendid!
Such columns, and such arches, and such
windows,

So many tombs and statues in the chapels,
And under them so many confessionals.
They must be for the rich. I should not
like

To tell my sins in such a church as this.
Who built it?

PRINCE HENRY.

A great master of his craft, Erwin von Steinbach; but not he alone, For many generations labored with him. Children that came to see these Saints in stone,

As day by day out of the blocks they rose, Grew old and died, and still the work went

on,

And on, and on, and is not yet completed.
The generation that succeeds our own
Perhaps may finish it. The architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured
stones,

And with him toiled his children, and their lives

Were builded, with his own, into the walls,
As offerings unto God. You see that statue
Fixing its joyous, but deep-wrinkled eyes
Upon the Pillars of the Angels yonder.
That is the image of the master, carved
By the fair hand of his own child, Sabina.

ELSIE.

How beautiful is the column that he looks at!

PRINCE HENRY.

That, too, she sculptured. At the base of it

Stand the Evangelists; above their heads
Four Angels blowing upon marble trumpets,
And over them the blessed Christ, sur-
rounded

By his attendant ministers, upholding
The instruments of his passion.

ELSIE.

O my Lord! Would I could leave behind me upon earth Some monument to thy glory, such as this!

PRINCE HENRY.

A greater monument than this thou leavest
In thine own life, all purity and love!
See, too, the Rose, above the western portal
Resplendent with a thousand gorgeous
colors,

The perfect flower of Gothic loveliness!

ELSIE.

And, in the gallery, the long line of statues, Christ with his twelve Apostles watching us!

A BISHOP in armor, booted and spurred, passes with his train.

PRINCE HENRY.

But come away; we have not time to look. The crowd already fills the church, and

yonder

Upon a stage, a herald with a trumpet,
Clad like the Angel Gabriel, proclaims
The Mystery that will now be represented.

then saith:

MARY.

Who is it speaketh in this place, With such a gentle voice?

GABRIEL.

The Lord of heaven is with thee now !
Blessed among all women thou,
Who art his holy choice!

Darkened to be rekindled soon
Beneath the azure cope!

Nearest to earth, it is my ray
That best illumes the midnight way;
I bring the gift of Hope!

ANAEL.

The Angel of the Star of Love,

The Evening Star, that shines above

The place where lovers be,

I will alight at yonder spring To wash his little coat.

And Titus thenceforth shall abide

In paradise with me.

Here a great rumor of trumpets and horses, like the noise of a king with his army, and the robbers shall take flight.

JOSEPH.

Potz-tausend!

KING HEROD.

Himmel-sacrament!

Filled am I with great wonderment
At this unwelcome news!
Am I not Herod? Who shall dare
My crown to take, my sceptre bear,
As king among the Jews?

Here he shall stride up and down and flourish his sword.

What ho! I fain would drink a can
Of the strong wine of Canaan!
The wine of Helbon bring
I purchased at the Fair of Tyre,
As red as blood, as hot as fire,
And fit for any king!

He quaff's great goblets of wine.
Now at the window will I stand,
While in the street the armed band
The little children slay;

The babe just born in Bethlehem
Will surely slaughtered be with them,
Nor live another day!

Here a voice of lamentation shall be heard in the

street.

RACHEL.

O wicked king! O cruel speed! To do this most unrighteous deed! My children all are slain!

HEROD.

Ho seneschal! another cup! With wine of Sorek fill it up! I would a bumper drain !

RAHAB.

May maledictions fall and blast Thyself and lineage, to the last Of all thy kith and kin!

HEROD.

Another goblet! quick! and stir Pomegranate juice and drops of myrrh And calamus therein !