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THE TEN VIRGINS.

Another, with her white hands hotly lockt

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About her damp knees, muttering madness, rockt Forward, and backward. But at last she stopp'd, And her dark head upon her bosom dropp'd

Motionless.

Then they rose up with a cry

To the great moon; and stretched a wrathful arm Of wild expostulation to the sky,

Murmuring "These earth-lamps fail us! and what harm?

Does not the moon shine? Let us rise and haste
To meet the Bridegroom yonder o'er the waste!
For now I seem to catch once more the tone
Of viols on the night! 'Twere better done,
At worst, to perish near the golden gate,
And fall in sight of glory one by one,
Than here all night upon the wild to wait
Uncertain ills. Away! the hour is late!"

Again the moon dipp'd.

I could see no more;

Not the least gleam of light did heaven afford.
At last I heard a knocking on a door,

And some one crying, "Open to us, Lord

32

THE TEN VIRGINS.

There was an awful pause.

Beat.

I heard my heart

Then a voice-"I know you not. Depart."

I caught within a glimpse of glory. And

The door closed.

Still in darkness dream'd the land.

I could not see those women.

Not a breath!

Darkness and awe: a darkness more than death.

The darkness took them.

OWEN MEREDITH.

[graphic]

B

THE INFINITE WILL.

Y scale and method works the Will Supreme,

Nor clouds, nor waves, without a limit

stream;

And all the floods that daylight never saw,
The rayless tide of ruin, owns a law.

O'er all confusions marring earth and air,
O'er all the shuddering hours of man's despair,
Still reigns one fixed decree of peace and love,
And still, though dim below, 'tis bright above.

JOHN STERLING.

D

"I FLY UNTO THEE TO HIDE ME."

F there had anywhere appeared in space

Another place of refuge, where to flee,
Our hearts had taken refuge in that place,
And not with Thee.

For we against creation's bars had beat

Like prison'd eagles, through great worlds had

sought

Though but a foot of ground to plant our feet,
Where Thou wert not.

And only when we found in earth and air,

In heaven or hell that such might nowhere beThat we could not flee from Thee anywhere,

We fled to Thee.

ARCHBISHOP TRENCH.

[graphic][merged small]

HAT sought we in the Holy Book?

Not Science-wide before us lies Creation's volume, where to look For all the light that sense supplies;

Not date or number, name or place,
Mere toys for antiquarian quest,
Although these annals of our race

Are still the oldest and the best;

Not beauty of the outward frame,
Though few can boast such pictures fair,

Nor acts of men exempt from blame,
Though many a saintly life is there;

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