The Mistress of the Manse Part 2

And trembling Mildred overheard.

These from the careless or the dull-- Gossips at best; at wisest, dolts; And though her quickened ear might cull From out their whispered thunderbolts A "lovely!" and a "beautiful!"

And though sweet mother-faces smiled, And bows were given with friendly grace, And many a pleasant little child Sought sympathy within her face, Her aching heart was not beguiled.

She did not see--she only felt-- As up the staring aisle she walked-- The critic glances, coldly dealt, By those who looked, and bent, and talked; And, even, when at last she knelt

Alone within the pastor's pew, And prayed for self-forgetfulness With deep humility, she knew She gave her figure and her dress To careful eyes with closer view.

IX.

At length she raised her head, and tossed A burden from her heart, and brain.

She would have love at any cost Of weary toil and patient pain, And rightful ease and pleasure lost!

They could not love her for his sake; They would not, and her heart forgave.

Why should a woman stoop to take The poor endowment of a slave, And like a menial choose to make

Her master's mantle half her own?

They loved her least who loved him most: They envied her her little throne!

He who was cherished by a host Was hers by gift, and hers alone,

And she would prove her woman's right To hold the throne to which the king Had called her, clothing her with white; And never would she show her ring To win a loving proselyte!

These were the thoughts and this the strife That through her kindling spirit swept, And wrought her purposes of life; And powers that waked and powers that slept Within the sweet and girlish wife.

Sprang into energy intense, At touch of an inspiring chrism That fell on her, she knew not whence, And lifted her to heroism Which wrapped her wholly, soul and sense.

X.

Meanwhile, through all the vaulted s.p.a.ce The organ sent its angels out; And up and down the holy place They fanned the cheeks of care and doubt, And touched each worn and weary face

With beauty as their wings went by: Then sailed afar with peaceful sweep, And, calling heavenward every eye, Evanished into silence deep-- The earth forgotten in the sky!

Then by the sunlight warmly kissed, Far up, in rainbow glory set, Rayed round with gold and amethyst, She saw upon the great rosette The Saviour's visage, pale and trist.

"Oh Crown of Thorns!" she softly breathed; "Oh precious crown of love divine!

Oh brow with trickling life enwreathed!

Oh piercing thorns and crimson sign!

I hold you mine in love bequeathed.

"But not for sake of these or thee!

I must win love as thou hast won.

The thorns are mine, and all must see, In sacrifice, and service done, The loving Lord they love in me."

XI.

Then, through a large and golden hour She listened to the golden speech Of one who held the priceless dower Of love and eloquence, that reach And move the hearts of men with power.

Ah poor the music of the choir That voiced the Psalter after him!

And strong the prayer that, touched with fire, Flamed upward, past the seraphim, And wrapped the throne of his desire!

She watched and heard as in a dream, When, in the old, familiar ground Of sacred truth, he found his theme, And led it forth, until it wound Through meadows broad--a swollen stream

That flashed and eddied in the light, And fed the gra.s.ses at its edge, Or thundered in its onward might O'er interposing weir and ledge, And left them hidden in the white;

While on it pressed, and, to the eye, Grew broader, till its breadth became A solemn river, sweeping by, That, quick with ships and red with flame, Reached far away and kissed the sky!

Strong men were moved as trees are bowed Before a swift and sounding wind; And sighs were long and sobs were loud, Of those who loved and those who sinned, Among the deeply listening crowd.

XII.

And Mildred, in the whelming tide Of thought and feeling, quite forgot That he who thus had magnified His office, held a common lot With her, and owned her as his bride.

But when, at length, the thought returned That she was his in plighted truth, And she with humbled soul discerned That, though her youth was given to youth, And love by love was fairly earned,

She could not match him wing-and-wing Through all his broad and lofty range, And feared what pa.s.sing years might bring No change for good, but only change That would degrade her to a thing

Of homely use and household care, And love by duty basely kept-- She bowed her head upon the bare Cold rail that hid her face, and wept, And poured her pa.s.sion in a prayer.

XIII.

"Oh Father, Father!" thus she prayed: "Thou know'st the priceless boon I seek!

Before my life, abashed, dismayed, I stand, with hopeless hands and weak, Of him and of myself afraid!

"Teach me and lead me where to find, Beyond the touch of hand and lip, That vital charm of heart, and mind Which, in a true companionship, My feebler life to his shall bind!

"His ladder leans upon the sun: I cannot climb it: give me wings!

Grant that my deeds, divinely done, May be appraised divinest things, Though they be little every one.

"His stride is strong; his steps are high May not my deeds be little stairs That, counted swift, shall keep me nigh, Till at the summit, unawares, We stand with equal foot and eye?

"If further down toward Nature's heart His root is struck, commanding springs In whose deep life I have no part, Send me, on recompensing wings, The rain that gathers where thou art!

"Oh give me vision to divine What he with delving hand explores!

Feed me with flame that shall refine To finest gold the rugged ores His strong hands gather from the mine!

"O dearest Father! May no sloth, Or weakness of my weaker soul, Delay him in his kingly growth, Or hold him meanly from the goal That shines with guerdon for us both!"