But strove in vain ; For it flew away, away, And instead of its sweet singing And he retraced His pathway homeward sadly and in haste. In the convent there was a change! Of cold, gray stone, The same cloisters and belfry and spire. A stranger and alone Among that brotherhood "Forty years," said a Friar, "Have I been Prior Of this convent in the wood, But for that space Never have I beheld thy face!" The heart of the Monk Felix fell : And wandered forth alone, Listening all the time To the melodious singing The bells of the convent ringing "Years!" said a voice close by. Fastened against the wall;- Had he been there, Serving God in prayer, The meekest and humblest of his creatures. He remembered well the features Of Felix, and he said, Speaking distinct and slow: "One hundred years ago, When I was a novice in this place, There was here a monk, full of God's grace, Who bore the name Of Felix, and this man must be the same." And straightway They brought forth to the light of day A huge tome, bound In brass and wild-boar's hide, And there they found, Just as the old monk said, That on a certain day and date, One hundred years before, Had gone forth from the convent gate He had been counted among the dead! And they knew, at last, That, such had been the power Of that celestial and immortal song, A hundred years had passed, And had not seem'd so long As a single hour. (ELSIE comes in with flowers.) ELSIE. Here are flowers for you, But they are not all for you. Some of them are for the Virgin, And for Saint Cecilia. |