enance of the wayfaring boy;
Or when the pale monk, with his folded hands
Upon his breast, prayed, For the love of God,
Pity the poor, give alms; and bade them speed!
And now, in distant light, the pinnacles
Of a gray fane appeared, whilst on the woods
Still evening shed its parting light. Oh, say, 230
Say, villager, what towers are those that rise
Eastward beyond the alders?
Know ye not,
He answered, Waltham Abbey? Harold there
Is buried--he who in the fight was slain
At Hastings! To the cheek of Adela
A deadly paleness came. On--let us on!
Faintly she cried, and held her brother's arm,
And hid her face a moment with her hand.
And now the massy portal's sculptured arch 240
Before them rose.
Say, porter, Ailric cried,
Poor mariners, wrecked on the northern shores,
Ask charity. Does aged Osgood live?
Tell him a poor Franciscan, wandering far,
And wearied, for the love of God would ask
His charity.
Osgood came slowly forth;
The light that touched the western turret fell
On his pale face. The pilgrim-father said: 250
I am your brother Ailric--look on me!
And these are Harold's children!
Whilst he spoke,
Godwin, advancing, with emotion cried,
We are his children! I am Godwin, this
Is Edmund, and, lo! poor and in disguise,
Our sister! We would kneel upon his grave--
Our father's!
Come yet nearer, Osgood said,
Yet nearer! and that instant Adela 260
Looked up, and wiping from her eyes a tear,
Have you forgotten Adela?
O God!
The old man trembling cried, ye are indeed
Our benefactor's children! Adela,
Edmund, brave Godwin! welcome to these walls--
Welcome, my old companion! and he fell
Upon the neck of Ailric, and both wept.
Then Osgood: Children of that honoured lord
Who gave us all, go near and bless his grave. 270
One parting sunbeam yet upon the floor
Rested--it passed away, and darker gloom
Was gathering in the aisles. Each footstep's sound
Was more distinctly heard, for all beside 274
Was silent. Slow along the glimmering fane
They passed, like shadows risen from the tomb