THE LEGEND OF THE ORGAN BUILDER
189
"And because her days were given to the service of God's poor,
From His church we mean to bury her. See! yonder is the door."
From His church we mean to bury her. See! yonder is the door."
No one knew him; no one wondered when he cried out, white with pain;
No one questioned when, with pallid lips, he poured his tears like rain.
No one questioned when, with pallid lips, he poured his tears like rain.
"'Tis someone whom she has comforted who mourns with us," they said,
As he made his way unchallenged, and bore the coffin's head.
As he made his way unchallenged, and bore the coffin's head.
Bore it through the open portal, bore it up the echoing aisle,
Set it down before the altar, where the lights burned clear the while:
Set it down before the altar, where the lights burned clear the while:
When, oh, hark! the wondrous organ of itself began to play
Strains of rare, unearthly sweetness never heard until that day!
Strains of rare, unearthly sweetness never heard until that day!
All the vaulted arches rang with the music sweet and clear;
All the air was filled with glory, as of angels hovering near;
All the air was filled with glory, as of angels hovering near;
And ere yet the strain was ended, he who bore the coffin's head,
With the smile of one forgiven, gently sank beside it—dead.
With the smile of one forgiven, gently sank beside it—dead.
They who raised the body knew him, and they laid him by his bride;
Down the aisle and o'er the threshold they were carried side by side;
Down the aisle and o'er the threshold they were carried side by side;
While the organ played a dirge that no man ever heard before,
And then softly sank to silence—silence kept for evermore.
And then softly sank to silence—silence kept for evermore.
