And with the Bishop side by side,
As nearest to the dead allied,
Was Eleëmon seen:

All mark'd, but none could rede aright,
The trouble in his mien.

"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
The solemn psalm awoke,

Which to all other hearts that hour
Its surest comfort spoke :

"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,
O wretchedest of wretched men,
That psalmody convey'd!
For conscience told him that he too
A covenant had made.

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.

To him it seem'd a hollow voice

That warn'd him of his doom;

For the tree whereon the Raven sate Grew over the Pagan's tomb.

VI.

WHEN weariness would let her
No longer pray and weep,
And midnight long was past,
Then Cyra fell asleep.

Into that wretched sleep she sunk
Which only sorrow knows,
Wherein the exhausted body rests,
But the heart hath no repose.

Of her Father she was dreaming,
Still aware that he was dead,
When, in the visions of the night,
He stood beside her bed.

Crown'd and in robes of light he came; She saw he had found grace;

And yet there seem'd to be

A trouble in his face.

The eye and look were still the same
That she from her cradle knew ;

And he put forth his hand, and blest her,
As he had been wont to do.

But then the smile benign
Of love forsook his face,
And a sorrowful displeasure
Came darkly in its place;

And he cast on Eleëmon
A melancholy eye,

And sternly said, "I bless thee not,
Bondsman! thou knowest why!"

Again to Cyra then he turn'd,
"Let not thy husband rest,
Till he hath wash'd away with tears
The red spot from his breast!

"Hold fast thy hope, and Heaven will not Forsake thee in thine hour:

Good Angels will be near thee,

And evil ones shall fear thee,
And Faith will give thee power."

Perturb'd, yet comforted, she woke,
For in her waking ear

The words were heard which promised her
A strength above all fear.

An odour, that refresh'd no less
Her spirit with its blessedness
Than her corporeal frame,

Was breathed around, and she surely found
That from Paradise it came.

And, though the form revered was gone,
A clear unearthly light

Remain'd, encompassing the bed,
When all around was night.

It narrow'd as she gazed;

And soon she saw it rest,
Concenter'd, like an eye of light,
Upon her husband's breast.

Not doubting now the presence
Of some good presiding Power,
Collectedness as well as strength
Was given her in this hour.

And rising half, the while in deep
But troubled sleep he lay,

She drew the covering from his breast
With cautious hand away.

The small round blood-red mark she saw;
Eleëmon felt her not;

But in his sleep he groan'd, and cried
"Out! out... accursed spot!"

The darkness of surrounding night
Closed then upon that eye of light.

She waited for the break

Of day, and lay the while in prayer
For that poor sinner's sake.

...

In fearful, miserable prayer; But while she pray'd the load of care Less heavily bore on her heart, And light was given, enabling her To choose her difficult part.

And she drew, as comfortable texts
Unto her thoughts recurr'd,
Refreshment from the living well
Of God's unerring word.

But when the earliest dawn appear'd,
Herself in haste she array'd,
And watch'd his waking patiently,
And still as she watched she pray'd;
And when Eleëmon had risen,
She spake to him, and said:

"We have been visited this night! My Father's Ghost I have seen; I heard his voice, . . an aweful voice!.. And so hast thou, I ween!"