THE SOUL'S QUEST.

PART I.

IN the land that is neither night nor day, Where the mists sleep over the forests grey, A sad, sad spirit wandered away.

The woods are still—no brooks, no wind,
No fair green meadows can she find;
But a low red light in the sky behind.

Far over the plain, to the spirit's sight,
The city's towers are black as night,
Against the edge of the low red light.

This side the city in darkness lies,
But westward, at the glowing skies,
It glares with a thousand fiery eyes.

B

The road is long, the hedgerows bare,

There's the chill of death in the silent air,
And a glimmer of darkness everywhere.

"O sad, sad spirit, what thy quest,

With those flowing locks and that shadowy vest?" The spirit answers, "I seek for rest."

"Where seekest rest, when the air is cold

On the long, dim road, and the clock hath tolled The muffled hours from the belfry old?

"Where seekest rest through the twilight grey Of the mists that sleep on the woods alway?"—"I seek to-morrow or yesterday!"

Her face is pale, her feet are bare,

Her sad dark eyes, wide open, stare

At the glimmering darkness everywhere.

To those cheeks no rose hath summer brought,

But on their pallor time hath wrought

The troubled lines of an after-thought.

Her arms are crossed upon her breast,
Her round limbs shape the shadowy vest,
And thus, all silent, seeks she rest.

Her tread is light on the cold, hard road;
For the tread may be light, yet heavy the load
Of grief at the heart and thoughts that goad.

She plucks a leaf from the roadway side,
And under its shade two violets hide-
As if from her cold touch, they hide.

She twines the violets in her hair;
They have no scent-she does not care,
For the glimmer of darkness is everywhere.

And on through the dim of the twilight grey,
While the pale sky gloweth far away,
She seeks to-morrow or yesterday.

PART II.

"O Abbess, Abbess, the air is chill!

I heard the chaunting over the hill,
Like an angel's voice when the soul is still.