PRINCE HENRY.

But this deed, is it good or evil?
Have I thine absolution free
To do it, and without restriction?

LUCIFER.

Ay; and from whatsoever sin

Lieth around it and within,

From all crimes in which it may involve thee,
I now release thee and absolve thee!

PRINCE HENRY.

Give me thy holy benediction.

LUCIFER,

stretching forth his hand and muttering. Maledictione perpetua

Maledicat vos

Pater eternus!

THE ANGEL, with the aeolian harp.

Take heed! take heed!

Noble art thou in thy birth,

By the good and the great of earth

Hast thou been taught!

Be noble in every thought

And in every deed!

Let not the illusion of thy senses
Betray thee to deadly offences.
Be strong! be good! be pure!
The right only shall endure,
All things else are but false pretences
I entreat thee, I implore,

Listen no more

To the suggestions of an evil spirit,
That even now is there,

Making the foul seem fair,

And selfishness itself a virtue and a merit!

A ROOM IN THE FARM-HOUSE.

GOTTLIEB.

IT is decided! For many days,
And nights as many, we have had
A nameless terror in our breast,
Making us timid, and afraid

Of God, and his mysterious ways!
We have been sorrowful and sad;

Much have we suffered, much have prayed
That he would lead us as is best,

And show us what his will required.

It is decided; and we give

Our child, O Prince, that you may live!

URSULA.

It is of God. He has inspired

This purpose in her; and through pain,
Out of a world of sin and woe,
He takes her to himself again.
The mother's heart resists no longer;
With the Angel of the Lord in vain
It wrestled, for he was the stronger.

GOTTLIEB.

As Abraham offered long ago

His son unto the Lord, and even
The Everlasting Father in heaven

Gave his, as a lamb unto the slaughter,

So do I offer up my daughter!

URSULA hides her face.

My life is little,

Only a cup of water,

But pure and limpid.

Take it, O my Prince!
Let it refresh you,

ELSIE.

Promise me,

When we are gone from here, and on our way
Are journeying to Salerno, you will not,
By word or deed, endeavor to dissuade me
And turn me from my purpose; but remember
That as a pilgrim to the Holy City

Walks unmolested, and with thoughts of pardon
Occupied wholly, so would I approach

The gates of Heaven, in this great jubilee, my petition, putting off from me

With

Longfellow. II.

All thoughts of earth, as shoes from off my feet.

Promise me this.

PRINCE HENRY.

Thy words fall from thy lips

Like roses from the Lips of Angelo: and angels
Might stoop to pick them up!

ELSIE.

Will you not promise?

PRINCE HENRY.

If ever we depart upon this journey,
So long to one or both of us, I promise.

ELSIE.

lifted me

Shall we not then? Have

go,

you

Into the air, only to hurl me back

Wounded upon the ground? and offered me
The waters of eternal life, to bid me
Drink the polluted puddles of this world?

PRINCE HENRY.

O Elsie! what a lesson thou dost teach me!
The life which is, and that which is to come,
Suspended hang in such nice equipoise
A breath disturbs the balance; and that scale
In which we throw our hearts preponderates,
And the other, like an empty one, flies up,
And is accounted vanity and air!

To me the thought of death is terrible,
Having such hold on life. To thee it is not
So much even as the lifting of a latch;

Only a step into the open air

Out of a tent already luminous

With light that shines through its transparent walls! O pure in heart! from thy sweet dust shall

Lilies, upon whose petals will be written "Ave Maria" in characters of gold!

grow

III.

A STREET IN STRASBURG.

Night. PRINCE HENRY wandering alone, wrapped in a cloak.

PRINCE HENRY.

STILL is the night. The sound of feet
Has died away from the empty street,
And like an artisan, bending down
His head on his anvil, the dark town
Sleeps, with a slumber deep and sweet.
Sleepless and restless, I alone,

In the dusk and damp of these walls of stone,
Wander and weep in my remorse!

CRIER OF THE DEAD, ringing a bell.

Wake! wake!

All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!

PRINCE HENRY.

Hark! with what accents loud and hoarse

This warder on the walls of death
Sends forth the challenge of his breath!
I see the dead that sleep in the grave!
They rise up and their garments wave,
Dimly and spectral, as they rise,

With the light of another world in their eyes!

CRIER OF THE DEAD.

Wake! wake!

All ye that sleep!

Pray for the Dead!

Pray for the Dead!