II.

A FARM IN THE ODENWALD.

A garden; morning; PRINCE HENRY seated, with a book.

ELSIE, at a distance, gathering flowers.

PRINCE HENRY, reading.

ONE morning, all alone,

Out of his convent of gray stone,
Into the forest older, darker, grayer,

His lips moving as if in prayer,

His head sunken upon his breast

As in a dream of rest,

Walked the Monk Felix. All about

The broad, sweet sunshine lay without,

Filling the summer air;

And within the woodlands as he trod,

The twilight was like the Truce of God

With worldly woe and care;

Under him lay the golden moss;

And above him the boughs of hemlock-trees Waved, and made the sign of the cross,

And whispered their Benedicites;

And from the ground

Rose an odor sweet and fragrant

Of the wild-flowers and the vagrant

Vines that wandered,

Seeking the sunshine, round and round.

These he heeded not, but pondered
On the volume in his hand,
A volume of Saint Augustine,
Wherein he read of the unseen
Splendors of God's great town
In the unknown land,

And, with his eyes cast down
In humility, he said:

"I believe, O God,

What herein I have read,

But alas! I do not understand!"

And lo! he heard

The sudden singing of a bird,

A snow-white bird, that from a cloud
Dropped down,

And among the branches brown

Sat singing

So sweet, and clear, and loud,

It seemed a thousand harp-strings ringing.

And the Monk Felix closed his book,

And long, long,

With rapturous look,

He listened to the song,

And hardly breathed or stirred,

Until he saw, as in a vision,

The land Elysian,

And in the heavenly city heard