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 volume old and brown,

A huge tome, bound

In brass and wild boar's hide,

Wherein were written down
The names of all who had died

In the convent, since it was edified.

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
The Monk Felix, and never more
Had entered that sacred door.

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 seemed 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.

Prince Henry. As thou standest there,
Thou seemest to me like the angel
That brought the immortal roses
To Saint Cecilia's bridal chamber.
Elsie. But these will fade.

Prince Henry. Themselves will fade,
But not their memory,

And memory has the power

To re-create them from the dust.
They remind me, too,

Of martyred Dorothea,

Who from celestial gardens sent
Flowers as her witnesses

To him who scoffed and doubted.
Elsie. Do you know the story

Of Christ and the Sultan's daughter? That is the prettiest legend of them all. Prince Henry. Then tell it to me.

But first come hither,

Lay the flowers down beside me,
And put both thy hands in mine.
Now tell me the story.

Elsie. Early in the morning

The Sultan's daughter

Walked in her father's garden,
Gathering the bright flowers,
All full of dew.

Prince Henry. Just as thou hast been doing
This morning, dearest Elsie.

Elsie. And as she gathered them,

She wondered more and more

Who was the Master of the Flowers,

And made them grow

Out of the cold, dark earth.

"In my heart," she said,

"I love him; and for him

Would leave my father's palace,

To labour in his garden.

Prince Henry. Dear, innocent child!
How sweetly thou recallest
The long-forgotten legend,
That in my early childhood
My mother told me!
Upon my brain

It reappears once more,

As a birth-mark on the forehead

When a hand suddenly

Is laid upon it and removed.

Elsie. And at midnight,

As she lay upon her bed,

She heard a voice

Call to her from the garden,

And, looking forth from her window,
She saw a beautiful youth

Standing among the flowers.

It was the Lord Jesus;

And she went down to him,

And opened the door for him;
And he said to her, "O maiden!

Thou hast thought of me with love,
And for thy sake

Out of my Father's kingdom
Have I come hither:

I am the Master of the Flowers.
My garden is in Paradise,
And if thou wilt go with me,
Thy bridal garland

Shall be of bright red flowers."
And then he took from his finger
A golden ring,

And asked the Sultan's daughter
If she would be his bride.

And when she answered him with love,
His wounds began to bleed;
And she said to him,

"O Love! how red thy heart is,
And thy hands are full of roses.
"For thy sake," answered he,
"For thy sake is my heart so red,
For thee I bring these roses.
I gathered them at the cross
Whereon I died for thee!
Come, for my Father calls.
Thou art my elected bride!"
And the Sultan's daughter

Followed him to his Father's garden.

Prince Henry. Wouldst thou have done so, Elsie?
Elsie. Yes, ver, gladly.

Prince Henry. Then the Celestial Bridegroom

Will come for thee also.

Upon thy forehead he will place,

Not his crown of thorns,

But a crown of roses.

In thy bridal chamber,

Like Saint Cecilia,

Thou shalt hear sweet music,

And breathe the fragrance

Of flowers immortal!

Go now and place these flowers

Before her picture.

A room in the Farmhouse. Twilight. URSULA spinning. GOTTLIEB

asleep in his chair.

Ursula. Darker and darker! Hardly a glimmer

Of light comes in at the window-pane;

Or is it my eyes are growing dimmer?

I cannot disentangle this skein,

Nor wind it rightly upon the reel.
Elsie !

Gottlieb (starting). The stopping of thy wheel
Has wakened me out of a pleasant dream.

R

I thought I was sitting beside a stream,
And heard the grinding of a mill,
When suddenly the wheels stood still,
And a voice cried "Elsie" in my ear!
It startled me, it seemed so near.
Ursula. I was calling her: I want a light.
1 cannot see to spin my flax.
Bring the lamp, Elsie.
Elsie (within). In a moment!
Gottlieb.

Dost thou hear?

Where are Bertha and Max?

Ursula. They are sitting with Elsie at the door.

She is telling them stories of the wood,
And the Wolf, and Little Red Ridinghood.
Gottlieb. And where is the Prince?
Ursula.

In his room overhead;

I heard him walking across the floor,

As he always does, with a heavy tread.

(ELSIE comes in with a lamp. MAX and BERTHA follow her; and they all sing the Evening Song on the lighting of the lamps.)

EVENING SONG.

O gladsome light

Of the Father Immortal,
And of the celestial

Sacred and blessed

Jesus our Saviour!

Now to the sunset

Again hast thou brought us;
And, seeing the evening
Twilight, we bless thee,
Praise thee, adore thee!
Father Omnipotent!
Son, the Life-giver!
Spirit, the Comforter!

Worthy at all times

Of worship and wonder!

Prince Henry (at the door). Amen!

Ursula.
Elsie. It was the Prince: he stood at the door,
And listened a moment, as we chanted
The evening song. He is gone again.

Who was it said Amen?

I have often seen him there before.

Ursula. Poor Prince!

Gottlieb.

I thought the house was haunted!

Poor Prince, alas! and yet as mild
And patient as the gentlest child.

Max. I love him because he is so good,

And makes me such fine bows and arrows,

To shoot at the robins and the sparrows, And the red squirrels in the wood! Bertha. I love him, too!

Gottlieb.

Ah, yes! we all
Love him, from the bottom of our hearts;

He gave us the farm, the house, and the grange,
He gave us the horses and the carts,

And the great oxen in the stall,

The vineyard, and the forest range!

We have nothing to give him but our love! Bertha. Did he give us the beautiful stork above On the chimney-top, with its large, round nest? Gottlieb. No, not the stork; by God in heaven,

As a blessing, the dear white stork was given; But the Prince has given us all the rest. God bless him, and make him well again! Elsie. Would I could do something for his sake, Something to cure his sorrow and pain! Gottlieb. That no one can; neither thou nor I, Nor any one else.

Elsie.

And must he die?

Ursula. Yes, if the dear God does not take

Pity upon him, in his distress,

And work a miracle!

Gottlieb.

Elsie.

Or unless

Some maiden, of her own accord,
Offers her life for that of her lord,
And is willing to die in his stead.

I will!

Ursula. Prithee, thou foolish child, be still !

Thou shouldst not say what thou dost not mean! Elsie. I mean it truly!

Мах.

O father! this morning,

Down by the mill, in the ravine,

Hans killed a wolf, the very same

That in the night to the sheepfold came,
And ate up my lamb, that was left outside.

Gottlieb. I am glad he is dead. It will be a warning
To the wolves in the forest, far and wide.

Max. And I am going to have his hide!
Bertha. I wonder if this is the wolf that ate
Little Red Ridinghood!

Ursula.

O, no!

That wolf was killed a long while ago.
Come, children, it is growing late.

Max. Ah, how I wish I were a man,
As stout as Hans is, and as strong!

I would do nothing else the whole day long,
But just kill wolves.

Cottlieb.

Then go to bed,