The fancy stirr'd him so He rose and went, and entering the dim vault,

And, making there a sudden light, beheld All round about him that which all will be.

The light was but a flash, and went again. Then at the far end of the vault he saw His lady with the moonlight on her face; Her breast as in a shadow-prison, bars Of black and bands of silver, which the

moon

Struck from an open grating overhead High in the wall, and all the rest of her Drown'd in the gloom and horror of the vault.

It was my wish,' he said, 'to pass, to sleep,

To rest, to be with her - till the great day

Peal'd on us with that music which rights all,

And raised us hand in hand.' And kneeling there

Down in the dreadful dust that once was

man,

To pulse with such a vehemence that it drown'd

The feebler motion underneath his hand. But when at last his doubts were satisfied, He raised her softly from the sepulchre, And, wrapping her all over with the cloak He came in, and now striding fast, and

now

Sitting awhile to rest, but evermore
Holding his golden burthen in his arms,
So bore her thro' the solitary land
Back to the mother's house where she
was born.

There the good mother's kindly ministering,

With half a night's appliances, recall'd Her fluttering life: she raised an eye that ask'd

Where?' till the things familiar to her youth

Had made a silent answer: then she spoke 'Here! and how came I here?' and learning, it

(They told her somewhat rashly as I think)

And silence made him bold - nay, but I wrong him,

He reverenced his dear lady even in death;

But, placing his true hand upon her heart,

'O, you warm heart,' he moan'd, 'not even death

Can chill you all at once:' then starting, thought

His dreams had come again. 'Do I wake or sleep?

Or am I made immortal, or my love Mortal once more?' It beat the heart it beat:

Faint but it beat: at which his own began

me back :

Send! bid him come;' but Lionel was

away

Stung by his loss had vanish'd, none knew where.

'He casts me out,' she wept, ' and goes' -a wail

That seeming something, yet was nothing, born

Not from believing mind, but shatter'd

nerve,

Yet haunting Julian, as her own reproof
At some precipitance in her burial.
Then, when her own true spirit had
return'd,

'Oh yes, and you,' she said, 'and none but you?

For you have given me life and love again,

And none but you yourself shall tell him of it,

And you shall give me back when he returns.'

'Stay then a little,' answer'd Julian, 'here,

Why need I tell you all? - suffice to say That whatsoever such a house as his, And his was old, has in it rare or fair Was brought before the guest: and they, the guests,

Wonder'd at some strange light in Julian's eyes

(I told you that he had his golden hour), And such a feast, ill-suited as it seem'd To such a time, to Lionel's loss and his And that resolved self-exile from a land He never would revisit, such a feast So rich, so strange, and stranger ev'n than rich,

But rich as for the nuptials of a king.

And stranger yet, at one end of the hall

Two great funereal curtains, looping down,

The beauty that is dearest to his heart "O my heart's lord, would I could show you," he says,

"Ev'n my heart too." And I propose to-night

To show you what is dearest to my heart, And my heart too.

'But solve me first a doubt.

I knew a man, nor many years ago;
He had a faithful servant, one who loved
His master more than all on earth beside.
He falling sick, and seeming close on
death,

His master would not wait until he died, But bade his menials bear him from the door,

And leave him in the public way to die.
I knew another, not so long ago,
Who found the dying servant, took him
home,

And fed, and cherish'd him, and saved his life.

I ask you now, should this first master

claim

His service, whom does it belong to? him Who thrust him out, or him who saved his life?'

This question, so flung down before the guests,

And balanced either way by each, at length

When some were doubtful how the law would hold,

Was handed over by consent of all
To one who had not spoken, Lionel.

Fair speech was his, and delicate of phrase.

And he beginning languidly - his loss Weigh'd on him yet - but warming as he went,

Glanced at the point of law, to pass it by,
Affirming that as long as either lived,
By all the laws of love and gratefulness,
The service of the one so saved was due
All to the saver - adding, with a smile,
The first for many weeks- a semi-smile
As at a strong conclusion -'body and
soul

And life and limbs, all his to work his will.'

Slow-moving as a wave against the wind, That flings a mist behind it in the sunAnd bearing high in arms the mighty babe,

The younger Julian, who himself was crown'd

With roses, none so rosy as himself—
And over all her babe and her the jewels
Of many generations of his house
Sparkled and flash'd, for he had decked
them out

As for a solemn sacrifice of love-
So she came in: - I am long in telling it,
I never yet beheld a thing so strange,
Sad, sweet, and strange together-floated
in

While all the guests in mute amazement