She, who possest her soul in peace His lips the while had only moved For he had steel'd himself, like one In present joy he wrapt his heart, All other thoughts beside him, V. TWELVE years have held their quiet course How happily, how rapidly, Blest in her husband she hath been; (Most sinful and unhappy man!) She hath been fruitful as a vine, And in her children blest; Sorrow hath not come near her yet, Nor fears to shake, nor cares to fret, Nor grief to wound the breast. And blest alike would her husband be, Were all things as they seem; Eleëmon hath every earthly good, And with every man's esteem. But where the accursed reed had drawn Nor could he from his heart throw off It was there when he lay down at night, No occupation from his mind But still he felt it most, O miserable man, Who hath all the world to friend, But happy man, whate'er In such faith hath Proterius lived; And strong is that faith and fresh, As if obtaining then new power, When he hath reach'd the awful hour Appointed for all flesh. Eleëmon and his daughter With his latest breath he blest, And saying to them, "We shall meet Again before the Mercy-seat!" Went peacefully to rest. Thou art sold to the Demon!" Whole Cæsarea is pour'd forth When Proterius is borne to his resting place Not like a Pagan's is his bier With tapers in the face of day, With hymns that fortify the heart, In honour of the dead man's rank, The holy Bishop Basil Was one the bier who bore. And with the Bishop side by side, All mark'd, but none could rede aright, "His master's benefits on him Were well bestow'd," they said, "Whose sorrow now full plainly show'd How well he loved the dead." They little ween'd what thoughts in him Which to all other hearts that hour "Gather my Saints together: In peace let them be laid, They who with me," thus saith the Lord, "Their covenant have made!" What pangs to Eleëmon then, For conscience told him that he too And when he would have closed his ears Against the unwelcome word, Then from some elms beside the way A Raven's croak was heard. |