The earth seems one vast bride-bed. Doth God tempt us? Is 't all a veil to blind our eyes from Him?

A fire-fly at the candle! 'Tis love leads him:

Love's light, and light is love: Oh, Eden! Eden!

Eve was a virgin there, they say; God knows.
Must all this be as it had never been?

Is it all a fleeting type of higher love?
Why, if the lesson 's pure, is not the teacher
Pure also? Is it my shame to feel no shame?
Am I more clean, the more I scent uncleanness?
Shall base emotions picture Christ's embrace?

Rest, rest, torn heart! Yet where? in earth or heaven? Still, from out the bright abysses, gleams our Lady's silver footstool,

Still the light-world sleeps beyond her, though the nightclouds fleet below.

Oh! that I were walking, far above, upon that dappled

pavement,

Heaven's floor, which is the ceiling of the dungeon where we lie.

Ah, what blessed Saints might meet me, on that platform, sliding silent,

Past us in its airy travels, angel-wafted, mystical!

They perhaps might tell me all things, opening up the secret fountains

Which now struggle, dark and turbid, through their dreary prison clay.

Love! art thou an earth-born streamlet, that thou seek'st the lowest hollows?

Sure some vapours float up from thee, mingling with the highest blue.

Spirit-love in spirit-bodies, melted into one existenceJoining praises through the ages-Is it all a minstrel's dream?

Alas! he wakes.

Lew.

[LEWIS rises.

Ah! faithless beauty,

Is this your promise, that whene'er you prayed

I should be still the partner of your vigils,

And learn from you to pray? Last night I lay dis

sembling

When she who woke you, took my feet for

yours:

Now I shall seize my lawful prize perforce.
Alas! what's this? These shoulders' cushioned ice,
And thin soft flanks, with purple lashes all,

And weeping furrows traced! Ah! precious life-blood!
Who has done this?

Eliz.

Forgive! 'twas I-my maidens

Lew. O, ruthless hags!

Eliz.

Not so, not so-They wept

When I did bid them, as I bid thee now

To think of nought but love.

Lew.

Elizabeth!

Speak! I will know the meaning of this madness!
Eliz. Beloved, thou hast heard how godly souls,
In every age, have tamed the rebel flesh

By such sharp lessons. I must tread their paths,
If I would climb the mountains where they rest.

Grief is the gate of bliss-why wedlock-knighthood

A mother's joys-a hard-earned field of glory—
By tribulation come-so doth God's kingdom.

Lew. But doleful nights, and self-inflicted torturesAre these the love of God? Is He well pleased With this stern holocaust of health and joy?

Eliz. What? Am I not as gay a lady-love
As ever clipt in arms a noble knight?
Am I not blithe as bird the live-long day?
It pleases me to bear what you call pain,
Therefore to me 'tis pleasure: joy and grief
Are the will's creatures; martyrs kiss the stake—
The moorland colt enjoys the thorny furze-
The dullest boor will seek a fight, and count
His pleasure by his wounds; you must forget, love,
Eve's curse lays suffering, as their natural lot,
On womankind, till custom makes it light.

I know the use of pain; bar not the leech
Because his cure is bitter-'Tis such medicine
Which breeds that paltry strength, that weak devotion,
For which you say you love me.—Ay, which brings
Even when most sharp, a stern and awful joy
As its attendant angel-I'll say no more—

Not even to thee-command, and I'll obey thee.

Lew. Thou casket of all graces! fourfold wonder Canst thou

Of wit and beauty, love and wisdom!

Beatify the ascetic's savagery

To heavenly prudence? Horror melts to pity,

And pity kindles to adoring shower

Of radiant tears! Thou tender cruelty!

Gay smiling martyrdom! Shall I forbid thee?
Limit thy depth by mine own shallowness?

Thy courage by my weakness? Where thou darest,
I'll shudder and submit. I kneel here spell-bound
Before my bleeding Saviour's living likeness

To worship, not to cavil: I had dreamt of such things,
Dim heard in legends, while my pitiful blood

Tingled through every vein, and wept, and swore 'Twas beautiful, 'twas Christ-like-had I thought That thou wert such:

Eliz.

You would have loved me still?

Lew. I had gone mad, I think, at every parting
At mine own terrors for thee. No; I'll learn to glory
In that which makes thee glorious! Noble stains!
I'll call them rose leaves out of paradise

Strewn on the wreathed snows, or rubies dropped
From martyrs' diadems, prints of Jesus' cross
Too truly borne, alas!

Eliz.

I am forgiven at last?

Lew.

I think, mine own,

To-night, my sister—

Henceforth I'll clasp thee to my heart so fast
Thou shalt not 'scape unnoticed.-

Eliz. [laughing.]

We shall see

Now I must stop those wise lips with a kiss,

And lead thee back to scenes of simpler bliss.

SCENE II.

A Chamber in the Castle. ELIZABETH-the Fool-ISENTRUDIS

-GUTA singing.

Far among the lonely hills,

As I lay beside my sheep,

Rest came down upon my soul,

From the everlasting deep.

Changeless march the stars above,

Changeless 'morn succeeds to even;

And the everlasting hills,

Changeless watch the changeless heaven.

See the rivers, how they run,
Changeless to a changeless sea;
All around is forethought sure,
Fixed will and stern decree.

Can the sailor move the main ?
Will the potter heed the clay?
Mortal! where the spirit drives,
Thither must the wheels obey.

Neither ask, nor fret, nor strive:
Where thy path is, thou shalt go.
He who made the stream of time
Wafts thee down to weal or woe.