THE LEGEND OF THE ORGAN BUILDER
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But when they the portal entered, he forgot his lovely bride—
Forgot his love, forgot his God, and his heart swelled high with pride.
Forgot his love, forgot his God, and his heart swelled high with pride.
"Ah!" thought he, "how great a master am I! When the organ plays,
How the vast cathedral arches will re-echo with my praise!"
How the vast cathedral arches will re-echo with my praise!"
Up the aisle the gay procession moved. The altar shone afar,
With its every candle gleaming through soft shadows like a star.
With its every candle gleaming through soft shadows like a star.
But he listened, listened, listened, with no thought of love or prayer,
For the swelling notes of triumph from his organ standing there.
For the swelling notes of triumph from his organ standing there.
All was silent. Nothing heard he save the priest's low monotone,
And the bride's robe trailing softly o'er the floor of fretted stone.
And the bride's robe trailing softly o'er the floor of fretted stone.
Then his lips grew white with anger. Surely God was pleased with him
Who had built the wondrous organ for His temple vast and dim?
Who had built the wondrous organ for His temple vast and dim?
Whose the fault, then? Hers—the maiden standing meekly at his side!
Flamed his jealous rage, maintaining she was false to him—his bride.
Flamed his jealous rage, maintaining she was false to him—his bride.
Vain were all her protestations, vain her innocence and truth;
On that very night he left her to her anguish and her ruth.
On that very night he left her to her anguish and her ruth.
