8
CHRISTINA.
Through sorrow and through love this gentleness
With grieving hearts, with stricken ones; from mine
The blessing of the sorrowful be on Thee!"
But at her words a madness took my soul;
They seemed to mock me; falling one by one
Like gracious drops upon my heart, they smote
Its stagnant waters, stirring there no spring
Of life or wholesomeness; yet were they stirred.
Now would I speak with her, the fire was kindled;
Long had it smouldered, long enough consumed me.
Now by its flashes she shall read my soul
Methought, and look upon me as I am;
So, with a gesture of the hand, I led
Christina, following on my rapid steps
Like an unquestioning child, as if my will
Had power to draw her, till within the door
Of the great Minster passing, in the aisle's
Dim light we stood, together and alone.
With grieving hearts, with stricken ones; from mine
The blessing of the sorrowful be on Thee!"
But at her words a madness took my soul;
They seemed to mock me; falling one by one
Like gracious drops upon my heart, they smote
Its stagnant waters, stirring there no spring
Of life or wholesomeness; yet were they stirred.
Now would I speak with her, the fire was kindled;
Long had it smouldered, long enough consumed me.
Now by its flashes she shall read my soul
Methought, and look upon me as I am;
So, with a gesture of the hand, I led
Christina, following on my rapid steps
Like an unquestioning child, as if my will
Had power to draw her, till within the door
Of the great Minster passing, in the aisle's
Dim light we stood, together and alone.
Oft had I shunned Christina; now beneath
A steadfast lamp that burned before a shrine.
Confronting her, I said, "Now look on me;—
Where is the blessing that thou spakest of?"
But to my words she answered not; methought
She did not catch their import—so her gaze
Was fastened on me—then her very soul
Gave way in tears; she took me in her arms,—
Me, wretched me, that never thought to feel,
In this world, or the after one, again
Such pure embrace around me; to her heart,
A steadfast lamp that burned before a shrine.
Confronting her, I said, "Now look on me;—
Where is the blessing that thou spakest of?"
But to my words she answered not; methought
She did not catch their import—so her gaze
Was fastened on me—then her very soul
Gave way in tears; she took me in her arms,—
Me, wretched me, that never thought to feel,
In this world, or the after one, again
Such pure embrace around me; to her heart,
