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and blooming novice； fair and gay； But a grave woman； gentle and serene：
The outcast knew itWHAT SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN。 But； as she
gazed and gazed； a radiance bright Filled all the place with strange and
sudden light； The Nun was there no longer； but instead； A figure with a
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circle round its head； A ring of glory； and a face； so meek； So soft； so
tender 。 。 。 Angela strove to speak； And stretched her hands out； crying；
〃Mary mild； Mother of mercy； help me！help your child！〃 And Mary
answered； 〃From thy bitter past； Welcome； my child！ oh； welcome home at
last！ I filled thy place。 Thy flight is known to none； For all thy daily
duties I have done； Gathered thy flowers； and prayed； and sung； and slept；
Didst thou not know； poor child； THY PLACE WAS KEPT？ Kind hearts
are here； yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy： God has
none。 And man's forgiveness may be true and sweet； But yet he stoops to
give it。 More complete Is Love that lays forgiveness at thy feet； And
pleads with thee to raise it。 Only Heaven Means CROWNED； not
VANQUISHED； when it says 'Forgiven！'〃 Back hurried Sister Monica； but
where Was the poor beggar she left lying there？ Gone； and she searched in
vain； and sought the place For that wan woman with the piteous face： But
only Angela at the gateway stood； Laden with hawthorn blossoms from the
wood。 And never did a day pass by again； But the old portress； with a sigh
of pain； Would sorrow for her loitering： with a prayer That the poor
beggar； in her wild despair； Might not have come to any ill； and when She
ended； 〃God forgive her！〃 humbly then Did Angela bow her head； and say
〃Amen！〃 How pitiful her heart was！ all could trace Something that
dimmed the brightness of her face After that day； which none had seen
before； Not troublebut a shadownothing more。
Years passed away。 Then； one dark day of dread Saw all the sisters
kneeling round a bed； Where Angela lay dying； every breath Struggling
beneath the heavy hand of death。 But suddenly a flush lit up her cheek；
She raised her wan right hand； and strove to speak。 In sorrowing love they
listened； not a sound Or sigh disturbed the utter silence round。 The very
tapers' flames were scarcely stirred； In such hushed awe the sisters knelt
and heard。 And through that silence Angela told her life： Her sin； her flight；
the sorrow and the strife； And the return； and then clear； low and calm；
〃Praise God for me； my sisters；〃 and the psalm Rang up to heaven； far and
clear and wide； Again and yet again； then sank and died； While her white
face had such a smile of peace； They saw she never heard the music cease；
And weeping sisters laid her in her tomb； Crowned with a wreath of
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perfumed hawthorn bloom。
And thus the Legend ended。 It may be Something is hidden in the
mystery； Besides the lesson of God's pardon shown； Never enough
believed； or asked； or known。 Have we not all； amid life's petty strife；
Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible？ Did we not
hear The flutter of its wings； and feel it near； And just within our reach？
It was。 And yet We lost it in this daily jar and fret； And now live idle in a
vague regret。 But still OUR PLACE IS KEPT； and it will wait； Ready for
us to fill it； soon or late： No star is ever lost we once have seen； We always
may be what we might have been。 Since Good； though only thought； has
life and breath； God's lifecan always be redeemed from death； And evil；
in its nature； is decay； And any hour can blot it all away； The hopes that
lost in some far distance seem； May be the truer life； and this the dream。
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VERSE： ENVY
He was the first always： Fortune Shone bright in his face。 I fought
for years； with no effort He conquered the place： We ran； my feet were all
bleeding； But he won the race。
Spite of his many successes Men loved him the same； My one pale ray
of good fortune Met scoffing and blame。 When we erred； they gave him
pity； But meonly shame。
My home was still in the shadow； His lay in the sun： I longed in vain：
what he asked for It straightway was done。 Once I staked all my heart's
treasure； We playedand he won。
Yes； and just now I have seen him； Cold； smiling； and blest； Laid in his
coffin。 God help me！ While he is at rest； I am cursed still to live：… even
Death loved him the best。
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VERSE： OVER THE
MOUNTAIN
Like dreary prison walls The stern grey mountains rise； Until their
topmost crags Touch the far gloomy skies： One steep and narrow path
Winds up the mountain's crest； And from our valley leads Out to the
golden West。
I dwell here in content； Thankful for tranquil days； And yet； my eyes
grow dim； As still I gaze and gaze Upon that mountain pass； That leadsor
so it seems … To some far happy land； Known in a world of dreams。
And as I watch that path Over the distant hill； A foolish longing comes
My heart and soul to fill； A painful； strange desire To break some weary
bond； A vague unuttered wish For what might lie beyond！
In that far world unknown； Over that distant hill； May dwell the loved
and lost； Lostyet beloved still； I have a yearning hope； Half longing； and
half pain； That by that mountain pass They may return again。
Space may keep friends apart； Death has a mighty thrall； There is
another gulf Harder to cross than all； Yet watching that far road； My heart
beats full and fast … If they should come once more； If they should come at
last！
See； down the mountain side The silver vapours creep； They hide the
rocky cliffs。 They hide the craggy steep； They hide the narrow path That
comes across the hill … Oh； foolish longing； cease； Oh； beating Heart； be
still！
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