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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, very 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 shall hear sweet music, And breathe the fragrance Of flowers immortal!
Go now and place these flowers Before her picture.
A ROOM IN THE FARM-HOUSE.
_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.
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.
I cannot see to spin my flax.
Bring the lamp, Elsie. Dost thou hear?
_Elsie (within)._ In a moment!
_Gottlieb._ 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 wors.h.i.+p and wonder!
_Prince Henry (at the door)_. Amen!
_Ursula_. Who was it said Amen?
_Elsie_. It was the Prince: he stood at the door, And listened a moment, as we chaunted The evening song. He is gone again.
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 G.o.d in heaven, As a blessing, the dear, white stork was given; But the Prince has given us all the rest.
G.o.d 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.