eath would win me to your side.
And so it did! but ... well, it made some stir--
By your own hand, I think, they said you died.

IV.

Time passed. And then--was it the curse of crime,
That night of nights, which forced my feet to climb
To that locked bridal-room?--'Twas midnight when
A longing, like to madness, mastered me,
Compelled me to that chamber, which for ten
Sad years was sealed; a dark necessity
To gaze upon--I knew not what again.

V.

Love's ghost, perhaps. Or, in the curvature
Of that strange mirror, something that might cure
The ache in me--some message, said perchance
Of her dead loveliness, which once it glassed,
That might repeat again my lost romance
In momentary pictures of the past,
While in its depths her image swam in trance.

VI.

I did not dream to see the soulless eyes
Of you I hated; nor the lips where lies
And kisses curled; your features,--that were tuned
To all demonic,--smiling up as might
Some deep damnation! while.... my God! I swooned!...
Oozed slowly out, between the breast's dead white,
The ghastly red of that wide dagger-wound.

HER PRAYER.

She kneels with haggard eyes and hair
Unto the Christ upon the Cross:
Her gown is torn; her feet are bare.

What is this thing she begs of him,
The gentle Christ upon the Cross?
Her hands are clasped; her face is dim.

Is it forgiveness for her sin,
She asks of Christ upon the Cross?
And mercy for the soul within?

With anguished face, so sad and sweet,
She kneels to Christ upon the Cross:
Her arms embrace his nail-pierced feet.

Her tears run slowly down her face,
O piteous Christ upon the Cross!
And through her tears she sighs and says:--

"The thing that I would crave of Thee,
O Christ upon the cruel Cross,
Is not a thing to comfort me.

"Thou, who hast taught us to forgive,
O tender Christ upon the Cross,
Help Thou my love for _him_ to live.

"Oh, let the love that was my fall,
O loving Christ upon the Cross,
Still to my life be all in all.

"With love for him who loves no more,
O patient Christ upon the Cross,
Make Thou my punishment full sore."

She kneels with haggard eyes and hair
Unto the Christ upon the Cross:
Her gown is torn; her feet are bare.

THE MESSAGE OF THE LILIES.

My soul and I went walking
Beneath the moon of Spring;
The