he dead.

I have waited and my reward is with me.

I have overcome Death, and Death brought back to me him that was dead.

Therefore do I rejoice, for fair is the future.

Green are the paths that we shall tread across the everlasting meadows.

The hour is at hand. Night hath fled away into the valleys.

The dawn kisseth the mountain tops.

Soft shall we live, my love, and easy shall we go.

Crowned shall we be with the diadem of Kings.

Worshipping and wonder struck all peoples of the world, Blinded shall
fall before our beauty and might.

From time unto times shall our greatness thunder on, Rolling like a
chariot through the dust of endless days.

Laughing shall we speed in our victory and pomp, Laughing like the
Daylight as he leaps along the hills.

Onward, still triumphant to a triumph ever new!

Onward, in our power to a power unattained!

Onward, never weary, clad with splendour for a robe!

Till accomplished be our fate, and the night is rushing down.

She paused in her strange and most thrilling allegorical chant, of
which I am, unfortunately, only able to give the burden, and that feebly
enough, and then said--

"Perchance thou dost not believe my word, Kallikrates--perchance thou
thinkest that I do delude thee, and that I have not lived these many
years, and that thou hast not been born again to me. Nay, look not
so--put away that pale cast of doubt, for oh be sure herein can error
find no foothold! Sooner shall the suns forget their course and the
swallow miss her nest, than my soul shall swear a lie and be led astray
from thee, Kallikrates. Blind me, take away mine eyes, and let the
darkness utterly fence me in, and still mine ears would catch the tone
of thy unforgotten voice, striking more loud against the portals of
my sense than can the call of brazen-throated clarions:--stop up mine
hearing also, and let a thousand touch me on the brow, and I would name
thee out of all:--yea, rob me of every sense, and see me stand deaf and
blind, and dumb, and with nerves that cannot weigh the value of a touch,
yet would my spirit leap within me like a quickening child and cry unto
my heart, behold Kallikrates! behold, thou watcher, the watches of
thy night are ended! behold thou who seekest in the night season, thy
morning Star ariseth."

She paused awhile and then continued, "But stay, if thy heart is yet
hardened against the mighty truth and thou dost require a further pledge
of that which tho