now He cures the blind and raises up the dead;
And he aptly went on speaking of the blinding death of sin,
And urged them to be seeking for life and light within.

'Mid the mighty organ's pealing in the voluntary rare,
Through the fine oak-panelled ceiling went the maiden's broken
prayer
That she might but for a moment be allowed to have her sight,
To see old Alec's honest face that tranquil autumn night.

That He of old who sweetly upon Bartimeus smiled
Would gaze in like compassion on an English peasant child:
That He who once in pity stood beside the maiden's bed,
Would take her hand within His own and raise her from the dead.

The maiden's small petition, and the choir's grander praise,
Reached the shining gates of heaven, 'mid the sun's declining rays,
And the King who heard the praises, turned to listen to the prayer,
With a smile that shone more brightly than the richest jewel there.

And before the organ ended, ay, before the prayer was done,
An angel guard came flying through "the kingdom of the sun,"
From the land of lofty praises to which God's elect aspire
To the old cathedral city of that famous western shire.

And the maiden's prayer was answered; she gazed with eager sight
At the tesselated pavement, at the window's painted light;
And her heart beat fast and wildly as she realized the scene,
With the choir's slow procession, and the old white-headed dean.

Till she saw old Alec waiting, and arose for his embrace,
While a radiant light was stealing o'er her pallid upturned face,
But her spirit soaring higher flew beyond the realms of night,
For God Himself had turned for her all darkness into light.

THE BEGGAR MAID.

BY LORD TENNYSON.

Her arms across her breast she laid;
She was more fair than words can say:
Bare-footed came the beggar maid
Before the king Cophetua.
In robe and crown the king stept down,
To meet and greet her on her way;
"It is no wonder," said the lords,
"She is more beautiful than day."

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen:
One praised her ankles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,
In all that land had never been:
Cophetua sware a royal oath:
"This beggar maid shall be my queen!"

THE VENGEANCE OF KAFUR.