Thanks be to the Eternal Father, who has made us one with Him through the benign Spirit of Christianity! PART I. THROUGH the wide world went Marien On a holy mission sent, And ever, as she went along, Sweet flowers sprang 'neath her feet; All flowers that were most beautiful, The desert beasts grew tame; And man, the savage, dyed with blood, The merciful became. Now, if you will attend to me, I will in order tell The history of this little child, No friend at all had Marien, And at the break of day, In a lonesome place within the world, The stars were lost in coming morn, With upturned eye lay Marien; 66 And I am alone," said she, "Though the blackbird and the nightingale Sing in the forest-tree: "Though the weak woodland creatures Come to me when I call, And eat their food from out my hand; "Though sun, and moon, and stars come out, Alone both night and day! So I will forth into the world, And do what good I may: And I may do the injured right, "Up, I will forth into the world!" Sweet Marien from the ground rose up Through the wood went Marien, Under the green and leafy boughs Two ruffian brothers met. "Thou shalt not of our father's land," Then deep into the forest dark But no sign made the murdered man, Ere long, as she went wandering on, Pale was she as the marble stone, By her great misery. "What ails thee, mother?" Marien said, "What aileth thee, tny mother?" To the lone heart found their way. "He was the last of seven sons He is dead-I have none other; This is the day they bury him;Who is it calls me mother?" ""Tis I," said gentle Marien, "Dear soul, be comforted!" But the woman only wrung her hands, And cried, "My son is dead!" And how at last his mother stood Of the disciples' broken hearts And Christ arisen again. "Then sorrow not," she said, " as though. Thou wert of all bereft; For still, though they beloved are not, This blessed faith is left. "That when thy dream of life is o'er And "blessed be God," said she, "Who in my sorest need hath sent This comforter to me!" PART II. Now Marien in the woman's house Abode a little space, And comfort to the mother came; And a dear daughter's place Had Marien in the woman's heart, Doing the while a daughter's part. But now 't was time that she must go; For Marien's duty was not there, Now grief was past and woe was done; So, with the rising of the sun, She rose up forth to fare. Nay, bide with me," the woman said, "Or, if as thou dost say, Duty forbids that this may be, So forth the loving pair set out, And in the woman's arms she lay, That night within the forest hoar, And the next morn, with loving heart, They said farewell, as those who part To meet on earth no more. Upon her way went Marien, And the peace of God that passeth word, Upon her spirit lay, And oftentimes she sang aloud As she went on her way. The joyfulest song sang Marien That e'er left human tongue; The very birds were mute to hear The holy words she sung. But now the darksome night came on, On mosses green and brown. And in the deepest hush of night For with them was a feeble man, Stood 'mong the robbers rude. "Ye shall not take the life of man!" Out from the cave the robbers fled, A spirit stern and beautiful, Not aught of flesh and blood. And two from out the robber-band When from the cave the robber-band Rose from the floor where he was laid, And marvelling much, began. "Who art thou, child? and those few words Then Maria 'gan to tell him how, Through her God's power had wrought; And him from peril, nigh to death, Thus wondrously had brought. She told him how holy Daniel's faith There dwelt the lovely Marien; Yet not long dwelt she there ;- A lean and rugged man of pelf, And with hard speeches, coarse and rude, Meek Marien answered not a word, PART III. THROUGH the wild wood went Marien, The wildern wood was skirted By moorlands dry and brown; At entrance of the little town A rude stone cross, and there she knelt Then on the stone-steps sate her down; A pale child with a clasped book, 66 Why weep you, child," asked Marien, "What troubleth you so sore?" At these words spoken tenderly, The child wept more and more. "I have not heard," at length he said, "Kind words this many a year, My mother is dead-and my father Is a hard man and severe. "I sit in corners of the house Where none can see me weep; "The kid leaps by his mother's side, My heart is ever sad. "They say this blessed book can heal I lay it 'neath my head at night, The child drooped down his head; She read of him the humble child Of poverty and scorn; The night that he was born. How blessed angels came from heaven Then read she how, a growing youth, 90 Then how he grew to man's estate And wandered up and down, Preaching upon the lone sea-side, And in the busy town. Of all his tenderness, his love, Page after page she read; How he made whole the sick, the maimed, And how he raised the dead. And how he loved the children small, Even of low degree; And how he blessed them o'er and o'er, When this the little child had heard He spoke in accents low, "Would that I had been one with them To have been blessed so!" "Thou shalt be blessed, gentle one!" So conversed they of holy things As to the town they came, they passed To soothe a troubled soul. Anon the voices died away, The pealing organ ceased, And through the church's ancient door Down dropped the child upon his knees, Anon his little head dropped low, So died the child;- and Marien laid His meek arms on his breast, With the clasped book between his hands:Thus God had given him rest! And Marien, weeping holy tears, Sate down beside the dead, And slept that night within the church, Scarce from the church had Marien passed, As was his wont, though fierce and bad, Not seven paces had he gone, When, heart-struck, he surveyed And then came back the timid voice The footstep faint and low, The look of hopeless woe. PART IV. TEN long days' travel Marien went, Sometimes within the Baron's hall With shepherd people on the hills; With toiling peasant men, By wayside wells she sate her down, Another land among the hills He measured with his eye; ""Tis a stern land," said Marien, "A land of liberty! "There fled the Christians in old time, "Would'st thou God's people tribulate? A cursed thing it were To make that Christian land of love The proud man turned him round about "Rivers of blood have flowed for thee!" Unblenching Marien said, And many a Christian land hast thou With Christian blood made red. "Up, sin no more! "Tis coming now, "Thou man of blood, repent, repent, Up from his seat the conqueror rose, Forth from the tent sped Marien ; |