Halfway up the stairs it stands, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Never-forever!" By day its voice is low and light; Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, Never-forever!" In that mansion used to be His great fires up by the chimney roared; But, like the skeleton at the feast, There groups of merry children played, O precious hours! O golden prime, Even as a miser counts his gold, Never-forever!" From that chamber, clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night: The dead lay in his shroud of snow; All are scattered now and fled, Never-forever!" Never here, forever there, The horologe of Eternity B THE CHILDREN'S HOUR ETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, I hear in the chamber above me From my study I see in the lamplight, A whisper, and then a silence: A sudden rush from the stairway, They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; They almost devour me with kisses, Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Is not a match for you all? I have you fast in my fortress, But put you down into the dungeon And there will I keep you for ever, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, JOHN ALDEN AND PRISCILLA (From "The Courtship of Miles Standish ") THE do not condemn you; HEREUPON answered the youth, "Indeed, I Stouter hearts than a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter. Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on; So I am come to you now with an offer and proffer of marriage, Made by a good man and true-Miles Standish, the Captain of Plymouth." Mute with amazement and sorrow, Priscilla, the Puritan maiden, Looked into Alden's face, her eyes dilated with won der, Feeling his words like a blow, that stunned her and rendered her speechless; Till at length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble to woo me? If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning!" Then John Alden began explaining and smoothing the matter, Making it worse, as he went, by saying the Captain was busy Had no time for such things. "Such things!" the words, grating harshly, Fell on the ear of Priscilla; and, swift as a flash, she made answer: "Has no time for such things, as you call it, before he is married; Would he be likely to find it, or make it, after the wedding? That is the way with you men; you don't understand us, you cannot. When you have made up your minds, after thinking of this one and that one, Choosing, selecting, comparing one with another, Then you make known your desires, with abrupt and sudden avowal, And are offended and hurt, and indignant, perhaps, that a woman Does not respond at once to a love that she never suspected, Does not attain at a bound the height to which you have been climbing. This is not right nor just: for surely a woman's affection Is not a thing to be asked for—and had only for the asking. When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it. Had he but waited awhile-had he only showed that he loved me Even this Captain of yours-who knows? at last might have won me, Old and rough as he is; but now it can never happen." Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words of Priscilla, Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, expanding: He was a man of honor, of noble and generous nature; Though he was rough, he was kindly; she had known how, during the winter, |