LOVE'S ORDEAL;

“Know'st thou that sound upon the window pane?”

Said the youth quietly, as outstretched he lay,

Where for an hour outstretched he had lain,

Pillowed upon her knees. To him did say

The thoughtful maiden: “It is but the rain

That hath been gathering in the West all day;

Be still, my dearest, let my eyes yet rest

Awhile upon thy face so calm and blest.”

“Know'st thou that sound, from silence slowly wrought?”

Said the youth, and his eyelids softly rose,

Revealing to her eyes the depths of thought

That lay beneath her in a still repose.

“I know it,” said the maiden; “it is nought

But the loud wintry wind that ever blows,

Swinging the great arms of the dreary pines,

Which each with others in its pain entwines.”

“Hear'st thou the baying of my hounds?” said he;

“Draw back the lattice-bar and let them in.”

Through a cloud-rift the light fell noiselessly

Upon the cottage floor; and, gaunt and thin,

Leaped in the stag-hounds, bounding as in glee,

Shaking the rain-drops from their shaggy skin;

And as the maiden closed the spattered glass,

A shadow faint over the floor did pass.

The youth, half-raised, was leaning on his hand;

And when again beside him sat the maid,

His eyes for a slow minute moving scanned

Her calm peace-lighted face; and then he said,

Monotonous, like solemn-read command:

“For love is of the earth, earthy, and laid

Down lifeless in its mother's womb at last.”

The strange sound through the great pine-branches passed.

Again a shadow as it were of glass,

Over the moonbeams on the cottage floor,

Shapeless and dim, almost unseen, doth pass;

A mingled sound of rain-drops at the door,

But not a sound upon the window was.

A look of sorrowing doubt the youth's face wore;

And the two hounds half-rose, and gazed at him,

Eyeing his countenance by the taper dim.

Now nothing of these things the maiden noted,

But turned her face with half-reproachful look,

As doubting whether he the words had quoted

Out of some evil, earth-begotten book;

Or upward from his spirit's depths had floated

Those words like bubbles in a low dead brook;

But his eyes seemed to question,— Yea or No;

And so the maiden answered: “‘ Tis not so;

“Love is of heaven, and heavenly.” A faint smile

Parted his lips, as a thought unexpressed

Were speaking in his heart; and for a while

He gently laid his head upon her breast;

His thought, a bark that by a sunny isle

At length hath found the haven of its rest,

Yet must not long remain, but forward go:

He lifted up his head, and answered: “No —

“Maiden, I have loved other maidens.” Pale

Her red lips grew. “I loved them; yes, but they,

One after one, in trial's hour did fail;

For after sunset, clouds again are grey.”

A sudden light flashed through the silken veil

That drooping hid her eyes; and then there lay

A stillness on her face, waiting; and then

The little clock rung out the hour of ten.

Moaning again the great pine-branches bow,

As if they tried in vain the wind to stem.

Still looking in her eyes, the youth said — “Thou

Art not more beautiful than some of them;

But more of earnestness is on thy brow;

Thine eyes are beaming like some dark-bright gem

That pours from hidden heart upon the night

The rays it gathered from the noon-day light.

“Look on this hand, beloved; thou didst see

The horse that broke from many, it did hold:

Two hours shall pass away, and it will be

All withered up and dry, wrinkled and old,

Big-veined, and skinny to extremity.”

Calmly upon him looked the maiden bold;

The stag-hounds rose, and gazed on him, and then,

With a low whine, laid themselves down again.

A minute's silence, and the youth spake on:

“Dearest, I have a fearful thing to bear”

( A pain-cloud crossed his face, and then was gone )

“At midnight, when the moon sets; wilt thou dare

To go with me, or must I go alone

To meet an agony that will not spare?”

She spoke not, rose, and towards her mantle went;

His eyes did thank her — she was well content.

“Not yet, not yet; it is not time; for see

The hands have far to travel to the hour;

Yet time is scarcely left for telling thee

The past and present, and the coming power

Of the great darkness that will fall on me:

Roses and jasmine twine the bridal bower —

If ever bower and bridal joy be mine,

Horror and darkness must that bower entwine.”

Under his head the maiden put her arm,

And knelt beside, half leaning on his breast;

As, soul and body, she would shield all harm

From him whose love had made her being blest;

And well the healing of her eyes might charm

His doubting thoughts again to trusting rest.

He drew and hid her face his heart upon,

Then spoke with low voice sounding changeless on.

Strange words they were, and fearful, that he spake;

The maiden moved not once, nor once replied;

And ever as he spoke, the wind did make

A feebler moan until away it died;

Then the rain ceased, and not a movement brake

The silence, save the clock that did divide

The hours into quick moments, sparks of time

Scorching the soul that watcheth for the chime.

He spoke of sins that pride had caused in him;

Of sufferings merciful, and wanderings wild;

Of fainting noontides, and of oceans dim;

Of earthly beauty that had oft beguiled;

And then the sudden storm and contest grim;

From each emerging new-born, more a child;

Wandering again throughout the teaching earth,

No rest attaining, only a new birth.

“But when I find a heart that's like to mine,

With love to live through the unloving hour,

Folded in faith, like violets that have lien

Folded in warm earth, till the sunny shower

Calleth them forth; thoughts with my thoughts to twine,

Weaving around us both a fragrant bower,

Where we within may sleep, together drawn,

Folded in love until the morning dawn;

“Then shall I rest, my weary day's work o'er,

A deep sleep bathing, steeping all my soul,

Dissolving out the earth-stains evermore.

Thou too shalt sleep with me, and be made whole.

All, all time's billows over us shall pour,

Then ebb away, and far beneath us roll:

We shall behold them like a stormy lake,

‘ Neath the clear height of peace where we awake.”

Her face on his, her lips on his lips pressed,

Was the sole answer that the maiden made.

With both his arms he held her to his breast;

‘ Twas but a moment; yet, before he said

One other word, of power to strengthen, lest

She should give way amid the trial dread,

The clock gave out the warning to the hour,

And on the thatch fell sounds as of a shower.

One long kiss, and the maiden rose. A fear

Fell like a shadow dim upon her heart,

A trembling as at something ghostly near;

But she was bold, for they were not to part.

Then the youth rose, his cheek pale, his eyes clear;

And helped the maid, whose trembling hands did thwart

Her haste to tie her gathered mantle's fold;

Then forth they went into the midnight cold.

The moon was sunken low in the dim west,

Curled upwards on the steep horizon's brink,

A leaf of glory falling to its rest.

The maiden's hand, still trembling, scarce could link

Her to his side; but his arm round her waist

Stole gently; so she walked, and did not sink;

Her hand on his right side soon held him fast,

And so together wound, they onward passed.

And, clinging to his side, she felt full well

The strong and measured beating of his heart;

But as the floating moon aye lower fell,

Slowly she felt its bounding force depart,

Till like a throbbing bird; nor can she tell

Whether it beats, at length; and with a start

She felt the arm relax around her flung,

And on her circling arm he leaned and hung.

But as his steps more and more feeble grow,

She feels her strength and courage rise amain.

He lifted up his head; the moon was low,

Almost on the world's edge. A smile of pain

Was on his lips, as his large eyes turned slow

Seeking for hers; which, like a heavy rain,

Poured love on him in many a love-lit gleam.

So they walked like two souls, linked by one dream.