." "She Is Not Dead," Said The Red Weasel; "She Hath Been To The Great City." "Maybe There She Hath Found Death," Said The Shining Fly, "For His Web Reacheth Far, And He Loveth The Dark Places And Hidden Ways. He Hideth, Too, In The Cool Arbors Of The Wood, Stretching A Gray Chain For Our Undoing. Maybe She Found Death. He Spreadeth Ropes Of Pearls Across Our Path, And Looketh Upon Us From The Shade; When The Dance Is Gayest He Creepeth To Spring. Maybe She Hath Reached For The Pearls Or Hath Danced Into His Net." And So The Fly Sang Of The Watcher In The Wood, And His Song I Shall Sing Thee, Lest Thou Grow Weary Of My Prose: Deep In The Wood'S Recesses Cool I See The Fairy Dancers Glide, In Cloth Of Gold, In Gown Of Green, My Lord And Lady Side By Side. But Who Has Hung From Leaf To Leaf, From Flower To Flower, A Silken Twine, A Cloud Of Gray That Holds The Dew In Globes Of Clear Enchanted Wine, Or Stretches Far From Branch To Branch, From Thorn To Thorn, In Diamond Rain? Who Caught The Cup Of Crystal Wine And Hung So Fair The Shining Chain? 'Tis Death The Spider, In His Net, Who Lures The Dancers As They Glide, In Cloth Of Gold, In Gown Of Green, My Lord And Lady Side By Side. But A Dragon-Fly Rattling His Armor Said, Without Heed Of The Singer, "She Is Dead," For When She Came Among The Heather The Joyous Spirit Of The Mountain Met Her And Blew Upon Her Hair And Eyes. He Kissed Her Worn Cheek That He Had Known So Fair, And The Soft Rain Of His Sorrow Fell To See The Pity Of Her Brow. She Passed All Stiff And Cold; She Did Not Hear Nor Understand. "Wind," Quoth She, "Blow Not So Fierce." "She Is Not Dead," Saith The Red Weasel; "She Hath Been To The Great City." Now, When The Young Bride Raised Her White Face From Her Hands And Looked About Her, She Could Neither Hear The Speaking Of The Birds Nor See The Beauty Of The Wild Flowers, Yet In Her Heart She Had A Memory Of Both. Turning To The Little Flying Things That Came About Her With Soft, Beating Wings, She Said: "Once Ye Spake To Me, And Could Give Comfort With Your Counsel And Love. Now Ye Are Lost In The Voices Of The City That Ring Forever In My Ears." Gazing Upon The Flowers, She Said: "Ye, Too, Your Beauty Hath Faded. The Gaudy Flowers Of The City Have Flashed Their Color In My Eyes, So Ye I Cannot See Or Understand." Then She Rose To Her Feet, Though She Scarce Could Stand, And, Stretching Her Arms Towards The Great Purple Hills That Surrounded Her Father'S Far Home, She Said Towards It: "Why Didst Thou Call Me Back Since Thou Hast Let Me Go From The Sight Of The Heights That Would Have Been Always A Prayer To Uplift My Soul? Ahone! That Thy Voice Was Loud Enough To Follow And Give Me Unrest, That Whispered Always Of My Father'S House And The Valley Of My Home. So Must I Come Each Eve Upon This Hill To Look Upon It From My Loneliness. "Unloved Am I, And Unwished For, By Him Whom I Have Wedded. So My Heart Dieth Within My Breast, And My Soul Trembleth On The Brink Of My Grave. "Here Upon The Mountains, Unprayed For And Uncoffined, Shall My Body Lie, For Thy Voice Hath Called Me Forth. "Here My Black Sins Shall See And Pursue Me Even To Destruction; But In The City I Could Have Escaped With The Crowding Souls That Confuse Death To Count." Then, As A Remembrance Of Her Sins Came Heavy Upon Her, She Gave A Loud Cry And Covered Her Face With Her Hands. So She Stood Without Help Upon The Mountains, And Because She Was Blind With The City Dust And Deafened With Its Cries, She Stood Alone. The Pitying Wild Flowers Blew Their Fragrance To Her Eyes, But They Would Not Open; The Gentle Birds Spoke Comforting Whispers To Her Ears, But She Could Not Hear; The Great Hills Held Their Arms About Her And Breathed Their Peace Upon Her Brow. But This She Did Not Know, And So Stood Alone To Face Death. First Turned She Her Face To Where Her Father'S Castle Stood On A Far Hill, And Again Turned She To See The White Towers Where She Had Lived And Loved So Vainly. And When Her Eyes Met The Glisten Of The Walls, Her Heart Broke With A Little Sigh, And She Fell Upon The Ground. And She Laid Her Weary Body Down Beside The Waters Of The Mountain Lake. Her Head With Its Loosened Hair Lay In The Waters, So Her Lips, Covered By The Murmuring Ripples, Breathed A Prayer As She Died For Her Passing Soul. And The Little Stream That Ran From The Lake Down The Hill-Side Carried The Prayer Upon Its Breast As Thou Hast Been Told. Now, When The Ghost Of The Little Bride Stood Upright Beside Her Fallen Body, She Was Sore Afraid, And Trembled Much To Leave The Habitation She Had Known In Life. She Laid Her Spirit-Hands Upon The Cold Dead, And Clung To It As Though She Would Not Be Driven Forth. Many And Terrifying Were The Sights That Met Her When She Opened Her Eyes, After Passing Through The Change Of Death. Many And Terrifying Were The Sounds That Came To Her Ears, And She Feared She Would Be Whirled Away With The Great Clouds That Passed Her And Went Like Smoke Into The Skies. Cold She Was And Drenched With The Rain That Fell Everywhere Around Her; Gray And Misshapen Were The Moving Masses Under Her Gaze; And Only Where Her Hands Lay Holding To Her Dead Body Did She See Aught Of The World She Had Left Behind. There The Sweet Green Grass Lifted Itself And A Brier Rose Cast Its Blossom Apart. There A Bee Sang, Calling To Her A Little Comfort Among All The Strange Sounds That Filled Her Ears. As She Listened, She Found The Noises That Troubled Her Were The Cries Of Many Voices, And As She Began To See More Clearly In The Great Change That Had Come To Her, She Knew The Shadowy Clouds Rushing Upward Were The Spirits Of The Dead On Their Dangerous Swift Way To Heaven. And As She Raised Her Face To Follow Their Flight The Rain Fell Salt Into Her Mouth, So She Knew It Was The Repentant Tears Of The Passing Ghosts. So Crouched She In That Misty World, Seeing Not The Green Earth And The Purple Hills, But Only The Whirling Shapes About Her On Every Side, Flying From Earth To Heaven, Pursued By Their Black Sins. And One In The Valley Of Baile-Ata-Cliat, Looking Towards The Mountains, Said: "See How The Clouds Fly Black And Fearful!" But It Was The Hosts Of Spirits Flying Upward. "See," Quoth He, "How The Lightning Flashes!" But It Was The Opening Of God'S High Paradise To Receive Some Spirit Wellnigh Spent. "Hark," Said He, "How The Wind Moans And The Rain Beats Upon The Window!" But It Was The Cry Of The Passing Ghosts And Their Falling Tears As Their Black Sins Fought And Kept Them From Heaven. But One Who Was A Singer Took His Harp And Sang, For He Understood. Here Is His Song: They Say It Is The Wind In Midnight Skies, Loud Shrieking Past The Window, That Doth Make Each Casement Shudder With Its Storm Of Cries, And The Barred Door With Pushing Shoulder Shake. Ah No, Ah No, It Is The Souls Pass By, Their Lot To Run From Earth To God'S High Place, Pursued By Each Black Sin That Death Let Fly From Their Sad Flesh, To Break Them In The Chase. They Say It Is The Rain From Leaf To Leaf Doth Slip And Roll Into The Thirsting Ground, That Where The Corn Is Trampled Sheaf By Sheaf The Heavy Sorrow Of The Storm Is Found. Ah No, Ah No, It Is Repentant Tears, By Those Let Fall Who Make Their Direful Flight, And Drop By Drop The Anguish Of Their Fears Comes Down Around Us All The Awful Night. They Say That In The Lightning-Flash, And Roar Of Clashing Clouds, The Tempest Is About; And Draw Their Chairs The Glowing Hearth Before, And Casement Close To Shut The Danger Out. Ah No! The Doors Of Paradise They Swing A Moment Open For A Soul Nigh Spent, Then Come Together Till The Thunder'S Ring Leaves Us Half Blinded By God'S Element. Now, The Spirit Of The Young Bride Was Not Yet Called Upon To Join Their Terrible Flight, For Until Her Body Was Laid Beneath The Clay The Soul Had Power To Stay Beside It. So Stayed The Spirit Of The Young Bride By Her Dead Body Till Her Ghostly Eyes Grew Accustomed To The Change Which Had Come To Her. And When She Found She Could See The Brown Earth Again And The Things Thereon, She Rose To Her Feet, And Ran Down The Mountains To The Castle Of Black Roderick, And There Called Thrice Beside The Gate, And For Her It Was Opened By The Little Brother, Who Gazed Affrighted And Ran From Her. "What Hath Come To Thee?" Quoth She, And Came Upon Him In His Fear. And He Looked Not To Her, But Spake To A Knight-At-Arms, Saying Thus: "Three Times Cried The Voice Of My Brother'S Wife At The Gates, And When I Opened For Her There Was None Outside." So The Little Bride, Hearing, Cried Out In Her Despair, For She Had Forgotten That She Was No Longer As These Others. And When The Two Heard The Cry, They Were Affrighted, And Made The Cross Upon Their Foreheads. "It Is The Banshee," Quoth The Knight, "Who Weeps For Some Death." Seeing They Feared Her, The Little Bride Passed Sadly Into The Castle, And Timidly Sought The Chamber Where The Black Earl Was Gone To Crouch By The Glowing Fire. Now, When Black Roderick Looked Up And Saw Her, He Sprang Towards Her So She Was Afraid, And Flitted Before Him Like A Shadow. And When He Followed Up The Stair And Into His Own Chamber, She Faded Like A Shadow In The Sunshine That Came Through The Window, And The Wind, Coming Down From The Mountains And Passing Through The Casement, Drew Her Out Upon Its Breast, And Bore Her Back To The Hills Where Her Body Lay Awaiting Its Burial. And Seeing It There, A Misery Fell Upon Her, So She Raised Her Head And Wept. "Ahone!" Quoth She, "Poor Body That Hath No One To Weep Over Thy Loneliness, That Must Lie Uncoffined And Unprayed For, Who Wast So Tenderly Cared For In Thy Life! Where Art Thou, My Father, Where Art Thou, My Mother, That This Should Be? And Where Is He To Whom This Poor Body Was Given To Cherish And To Love?" And Again She Went To The Castle Of Black Roderick, And Stood Beside His Door, The Tears Undried Upon Her Cheek. And Again Sprang He Towards Her, So She Was Afraid, And Flew Before Him Down The Winding Stair And Out Into The Night, So He Could No Longer See Her. And Again The Spirit Of The Young Bride Went Back To The Dead Upon The Hill-Side, And, Seeing It Unburied And Uncoffined, Fell Into Tears. "Never," Saith She, "Shall I Now Reach Heaven, If My Body Lieth Without A Grave!" And So Sad Was Her Soul At The Thought That She Went In Her Despair To The Castle Of The Black Earl, And Stood Again Upon His Threshold Full Of Tears. And When He Looked Up And Saw Her He Was No Longer Fierce, But Spake To Her Gently. "Come Hither," Quoth He, "My Sad-Faced Bride. I Would But Ask Thee One Question. Come Beside My Chair." But She Answered Him Not At All, But Withdrew From His Presence, As Though Bidding Him Follow. Out Into The Night He Followed, And Pursued Her Without Rest, Till She Almost Reached The High Hill Where Her Body Lay Uncoffined. And When They Came In The Morning To The Little Grove Upon The Side Of The Mountain, She Felt A Hand Touch The Poor, Unmourned-For Dead, And, With A Great Fear Upon Her, Vanished From His Eyes; So He Fell Upon The Moss In His Disappointment And Weariness. But The Spirit Of The Little Bride Flew To The Side Of Her Uncoffined Body To Protect It From Desecration Ere Her Lord Had Looked Upon It. And There She Saw The Little Brother Playing By The Dead. And As She Came He Turned And Ran Down The Mountain, For He Had Heard The Voice Of Black Roderick Calling; So The Spirit Of The Little Bride Knew Her Task Was Done. And Of How The Black Earl Found Her, And Of What He Said And Did, Have I Told Thee; But Of How The Spirit Of The Young Bride Enwrapped Herself About The Dead I Have Not Spoken, Nor Of How She Thrilled Beneath The Embraces Of Her Lord, Whose Love She Had At The Last. When He Stood Beside Her Deep Grave, That Was Dug In The Little Church-Yard Nigh To The Castle, Her Spirit Rose Again From Her Body, And Knew Her Hour Of Trial Had Come. And When The Grave Was Closed And The Mourners Gone, The Spirit Stayed By The Grave, Afraid. When Evening Came, The Spirits Of The Dead Rose In A White Mist, Each Above His Grave, And All Prepared For Their Swift And Dangerous Flight Towards The Dark Heavens. "Now," Saith She, "My Body Can No Longer Protect Me With Its Earthly Presence. I Am Separated From The World, And Am No More Of It. I Must Arise And Meet Death Alone." The First Thing She Knew Of The Great Presence Was A Loud Whirring Of Wings; She Raised Her Head, And Saw Around Her A Crowd Of Evil Birds. So Afraid Was She That She Gave A Loud And Sudden Cry, And At The Sound The Ill Birds Rose And Hovered In The Air Between Her And Heaven. "My Sins Have Discovered Me," She Cried, "And Now I Fear Death!" And Because She Knew That Before Dawn She Would Have To Account For Her Evil Deeds, She Lifted Up Her Voice In Loud Keening. So Sad Was Her Cry That The Pitying Wind Bore It Down Upon His Wings Into The Little Village At The Foot Of The Mountain, That The People Might Hear And Pray For A Soul In Its Passing. But The People In The Village Were Busy Even So Late With The Harvest, And Did Not Hear; Only In One House Where A Mother Sat With Her Sick Child Did The Cry Come, And She Closed The Shutter And Fell To Prayer. "'Tis The Banshee Who Crieth," She Whispered, "And My Conneen So Ill! 'Tis The Banshee, And Sheila With The Cheek Of Snow. God Bid The Fairy Pass, And Set The Angels At My Door! Whisht!" She Cried To The Playing Young Ones, "Come Beside My Chair And Pray." And Of Her Fear Shall I Sing, Lest Thou Grow Weary Of My Prose: Oh, Whisht! I Hear The Banshee Keen, All Woful Is Her Cry. She Comes Along The Gray Boreen-- Pray God She Pass Us By. My Wee Conneen Is Pale And Weak, I Hold Him To My Side; The Rose Is White On Sheila'S Cheek Since Her Young Lover Died. The Little Children From Their Play Creep To Me Full Of Fear; "Oh, Whisht! The Banshee Comes," They Say: "Whom Does She Weep For Here?" But Sheila Leaves My Chair To Go, And Flings The Shutter Wide; "Be It For Me," She Whispers Low, "The Banshee Keened And Cried." God Be Between Our House And Harm, For Trouble Comes Full Fleet. I Hold The Babe Close In My Arm; The Fairy In The Street. But The Wind That Blew From The Hill-Side Carried The Keening Of The Little Bride Past The Village, And Blew It About The Windows Of The Castle Wherein Black Roderick Dwelt. And As The Cry Keened And Called, So Did The Sleepers Turn In Their Beds And Moan Uneasily In Their Dreaming. When The Cry Passed The Windows Of The East, It Went To The Windows Of The West, And There It Tapped Softly With Fingers Of The Wind And Called Three Times: "Roderick! Roderick! Roderick!" And At The First Call Black Roderick Turned In His Bed And Groaned. And At The Second Call He Rose From His Couch And Said, In His Anger: "Who Calleth, And Will Not Let Me Rest?" But At The Third Call He Rose And Went To The Window In Wonder, And Seeing Nothing He Crept Cold And Trembling To His Bed, Muttering The Half- Forgotten Prayers Of His Childhood; So Long He Lay In Fear And Amazement That He Did Not Sleep Till The Lark Hung Singing In The Heavens, And Then He Knew The Night Was Gone And With It The Ghosts That Hide In The Darkness. So He Turned His Face To The Wall And Slept. But The Spirit Of The Little Bride Was Speeding On Her Swift And Terrible Race To Paradise, And Round Her Whirled Three Great Black Birds Seeking For Her Destruction. And As She Flew, One Caught Her By The Long Hair That Swept Behind Her In The Wind And Drew Her Backward. "Now," Quoth She With A Cry, "I Can Fly Upward No Longer; Some Evil Thing Draws Me Back From Heaven." And As She Spoke A Voice Came Out Of The Dark Skies, And Said: "Who Holdeth Back The Passing Soul?" And The Voice Of The Dark Bird Replied: "Her Anger, For She Hath Not Submitted To Her Trials, But Held Herself Rebellious; Therefore Do I Draw Her Down." And The Voice From High Paradise Called Out, Saying: "Is There None To Come To Her Succor, Lest She Be Brought To Her Destruction?" And A Bee Humming On The Hillside, Hearing The Voice, Flew Upward And Stung The Evil Bird So It Fell Away Into The Darkness And Was Seen No More. And The Voice From The Heavens Cried Again, Saying: "Who Hath Let The Little Soul Go Free?" And The Bee Answered: "Her Gentleness, For She Loveth All Things, Great And Small, And Hath Fed The Honey-Bee When The Earth Refused Him Its Sweets." Now, As The Spirit Of The Little Bride Flew Upward, Freed From The Grasp Of The Evil Bird, There Came Upon Her Again The Cruel Claws Of One Of Those Two Others That Circled Round Her, Holding Her Back Upon Her Way. "Now," Quoth She, "I Shall Never See The Kingdom Of Heaven, And Cannot Reach The Doors Of Paradise," And Bitter Exceedingly Was Her Crying. But Again A Voice Came From The Dark Night, Saying: "Who Holdeth Back The Coming Soul From Her Place In Heaven?" And The Black, Evil Bird Answered: "Her Despair, For She Hath Not Held Her Head High Above Her Sorrows, Nor Hath Borne In Patience Her Griefs, But Hath Mourned The Afflictions That Were Put Upon Her Till Her Heart Hath Broken Under Her Grief. Therefore Do I Draw Her Down." And The Voice From High Paradise Called Out, Saying: "Is There None, Then, To Save Her From Eternal Destruction?" And A Wild Bramble Upon The Mountain, Hearing The Voice, Lifted Itself Upward, And, Throwing A Long Spray About The Evil Bird, Tore It So With Its Thorns That It Loosed Its Claws From The Wrist Of The Young Bride And Flew Into The Gloom. And The Voice From The Heavens Cried Again, Saying: "Who Hath Let The Soul Go Free?" And The Bramble Answered, Wafting The Perfume Of Her Flowers Upward: "Her Sweetness, For Her Mind Is Beautiful As The Song Of The Linnet, And She Turneth Her Foot Aside To Spare The Lowly Blossoms." Now, When Once More The Spirit Of The Little Bride Flew Upward, The Last And Greatest Of The Evil Birds Fell Upon Her, And So Strong Was He And So Evil That She Had No Strength To Go Farther. "Now," Quoth She, "I Am Lost Forever, And Shall See Not The Fair Place In Paradise That Was Prepared For Me." And She Gave A Loud And Despairing Cry. But A Voice Came Again From The Night, And Saith: "What Evil Thing Keepeth The Flying Soul Upon Its Way?" And The Dark Bird Answered: "Her Jealousy, For Bitter Was Her Heart Against One Whom Black Roderick Had Loved Ere She Became His Bride; And For This Do I Drag Her Down To Her Destruction." And The Voice From The High Heavens Spoke, Saying: "Is There None, Then, To Save Her?" And There Looked Up From The Hillside The Bright Eyes Of The Red Weasel, But He Crouched In The Grasses Without Reply. And The Grasp Of The Evil Bird Became Stronger On The Quivering Soul That Could No Longer Fly Upon Its Way To Heaven. And From The Great Wings Of The Bird Black Feathers, Wrenched Out In The Struggle, Flew Down Upon The Earth, Spreading Evil Where They Fell. And The Voice From Heaven Cried Out Again In Sorrow Exceedingly: "Is There None, Then, To Save This Soul From Destruction?" And The Bee And The Bramble, Seeing The Red Weasel Was Loath To Stir From The Grasses Where He Sat Watching The Desperate Battle, Fell Upon Him In Their Fury And Forced Him To Rise. "Never," Quoth They, "Shalt Thou Have Rest, Nor Thy Children'S Children Peace, While There'S A Bee In The Air Or A Flower Upon The Thorn, If Thou Goest Not To The Succor Of Her We Love So Well." Then The Red Weasel Sprang Into The Air And Seized The Evil Bird By The Throat; So He Let Go His Hold On The Spirit Of The Young Bride And Flew Away Into The Darkness. And The Voice From Heaven Cried Out, Saying: "Who Hath Let The Frail Ghost Free To Enter The Gates Of Paradise?" And The Red Weasel Answered: "Her Strength, For She Hath Conquered Her Own Evil Thoughts, And Put Them Away Forever." So The Spirit Of The Young Bride Reached The Gates Of Paradise Spent And Wounded, And There Upon The Threshold Stood An Angel Holding His Hand To Draw Her In. When His Holy Touch Fell Upon Her, She Rose Whole And Beautiful, And Her Breast Was Full Of Joy For The Moment. Now, The Spirit Of The Young Bride Had Been But A Brief Day In The Golden Place Of Paradise, When She Heard A Far Voice Call Upon Her Name In Anguish; Three Times Did It Call Upon Her, And At Each Cry A Sharp Sorrow Struck Her Heart, As Though A Knife Had Entered Therein. Now Went She To The Golden Bar Of Heaven, And, Leaning Forth, Looked Down Upon The Earth, And She Turned Her North, And Naught Did She See Save The Cold Face Of The Night With Its Millions Of Worlds Whirling In The Dark. And She Looked South, And Naught Could She See But The Gray Of Clouds Heavy With Storm; And She Turned Her East, And Naught Did She See Save The Shimmering Blue Of A Summer Sky. But When She Turned Her Westward, She Saw The Green Earth, And Of All Upon It She Sought None Save Black Roderick, Who Had Used Her So Ill. And There Upon His Bed He Lay In Danger Of Death, And As He Turned In His Anguish He Called Ever Upon Her Name, So Her Heart Knew No Longer The Peace Of Paradise, And She Became As One Of The Lost. Therefore Did She Rise Up And Approach The Throne Where The Saints And Angels Knelt In Continual Devotion. But She Could Not See The Golden Seat, Nor Him Who Sat Thereon. For Around And Above, And Circling Ever With Rainbow Wings, Went The Seraphim And Cherubim In Eternal Worship, So It Was As Though A Great Wheel Of Light Turned Continually. Now, When The Spirit Of The Little Bride Saw This Wonder, She Was Full Of Fear And Dared Not Approach, But Turned Away Weeping; And There, As She Wept, She Saw Before Her The Seat Of Mary, The Queen Of Heaven, And Ran Towards It With Unfaltering Feet. "For," Quoth She, "She, Too, Had But One Love, And, Being Woman, Will Understand." So She Knelt At The Feet Of Mary, And Cried To Her: "Pray For Me, Mother Of Christ." And The Virgin Turned To Her In Wonder At Her Tears. "Art Thou Not Happy," Said She, "In Heaven?" And The Spirit Of The Little Bride Said: "Nay, For The Cries Of My Beloved Come Upward From The Earth And Call To Me In His Anguish, So I Fear He Is In Danger Of Death." "And Why Doth Thou Fear Death For Him," Said The Virgin Mary, "Since It May Bring To Him The Happiness Of Heaven?" "Alas!" Said The Little Bride, "Were It Thus, His Cries Would Not Hurt My Heart So That I Cannot Hear The Song Of The Angels. I Fear He Is Lost Forever." "And What Canst Thou Do, Little Soul," Said The Blessed Mary, "To Save Him If He Cannot Save Himself?" "I Can Be With Him In His Destruction." Now, As The Little Soul Said This Terrible Thing She Fell Forward Upon Her Face, So Afraid Was She And So Despairing. "I Can Stand Between Him And The Flames," Said She, "And Hold My Hand Beneath The Burning Waters That Would Fall Upon His Body." And Then She Lay Silent. Then The Virgin Looked Upon Her With Eyes That Were All Pitiful And Had Much Understanding. "Thou Wilt Suffer," Saith She, As Though Remembering Something, "To Walk By His Side And See His Anguish, But Thou Wouldst Suffer More Wert Thou Forbidden This." So Mary Rose From Her High Place And Went Towards The High Throne Of Heaven, And As She Passed The Whirling Wings Of The Seraphim And Cherubim Ceased To Circle, But Flew Towards Her From The Throne. And To The Little Bride, Who Crouched Afraid On The Fragrant Floor, It Seemed As Though A Great Wonder Of Bees Had Settled On Some Hidden Sweet; Countless Wings Glistened And Flashed In The Strange Light That Glowed From The Opening Flowers That Formed The Floor About The Throne. In And Out, Striking Together In Their Eagerness To Get Nearer Their Desire, Went The Countless Wings Of The Angel Hosts. And From The Throne All The Time There Came Forth A Low Singing Like The Humming Of Bees. As The Little Bride Listened There Came To Her Ears The Voice Of The Virgin Praying For Her Before The Throne Of God, And In The Pauses Of The Prayer The Countless Voices Of The Fluttering Seraphim And Cherubim Took Up The Refrain, "Hear Us, O Christ." Now Suddenly All Sound Ceased, And The Fluttering Wings Moved Aside, And From Their Midst Strode Out A Mighty Angel Of The Lord; And When He Came Upon The Frightened Soul Of The Little Bride He Took Her By The Hand, And, Leading Her To The Gates Of Heaven, Opened Them That She Might Go Forth. But Ere She Could Pass Out He Said, With Great Sadness: "Thy Little Hands And Feet Are Soft With The Fragrant Places Of Heaven; Much Wilt Thou Suffer If Thou Goest Forth." And Again He Said: "How Canst Thou Leave The Beauty And Love Of Paradise, Wherein Thou Mayst Enter No More Save Thou Art Strong Enough To Conquer Great Dangers?" But The Little Soul Listened Not To Him, But Passed Through The Gates In Eager Hurry. And As She Went The Angel Followed Her With His Gaze; And So Great Was His Pity--For He Thought She Might Not Re-Enter The Kingdom Of Heaven--That Tears Fell From His Eyes Upon Her Hand. Now, When The Little Bride Went Forth From The Gates Of Heaven A Chill Wind Blew Upon Her, So She Wellnigh Fell Upon The Earth In Anguish; But She Took The Two Tears That Had Fallen From The Angel'S Eyes And Hid Them In Her Heart, And She Became Warm, And The Sharp Earth Did Not Hurt Her Feet, Nor Did The Wind Of The Cold World Harm Her. Now, When The Spirit Of The Little Bride Came To The Gates Of The Castle Wherein Dwelt Black Roderick, She Saw The Great Changes That Had Come To Pass Therein, For The Day That Had Fallen To Her In Paradise Was As Seven Years On Earth. With Her Death Had Come Strife And Disunion Among The Clans, And Now At The Walls Stood The Soldiers Of Her Father, And Within On His Death-Bed The Black Earl Who Was Dying, A Prisoner In Their Hands. And As The Little Bride Came To The Gates Of The Garden Without The Courtyard, She Saw Before Them A Strange And Horrible Coach. And The Only Light That Came From This Dark Carriage Was From The Red Eyes Of The Six Horses Who Drew It, And Their Trappings Swept The Ground, Black And Mouldy. Now, The Body Of This Coach Was Shaped Like A Coffin, And At The Head Sat The Driver. When The Little Bride Gazed Upon Him In Wonder Who He Could Be, She Saw Through The Misty Winding-Sheet That Enfolded Him A Death'S Head. But When She Looked At Him Who Sat At The Foot Of The Coffin, She Hid Her Face, For It Was An Evil Creature Who Crouched Here. Now, As The Little Bride Paused At The Gate Of The Garden A Voice Came From Inside, And Said: "Wherefore Comest Thou?" And He Who Sat At The Foot Of The Coffin Answered: "Open, For I Claim The Soul Of Black Roderick." And The Voice That Was Within Answered: "Thou Shalt Come, For His Cruelty Hath Driven My Young Daughter To Her Grave, Wherein She Lieth While The Birds Sing, And The Flowers Blossom, And The Earth Is Glad With Youth And Spring." So He Dropped The Bolt And The Door Swung Open, So The Coach And Its Six Horses Entered. Now, When The Driver Reached The Door Of The Court-Yard, He Found It Closed Against Him, And He Drew His Coach Up Beside It And Called In A Hollow Voice For Entrance. And One Cried From Inside: "Wherefore Comest Thou?" And He Who Was Inside Answered: "I Claim The Soul Of Black Roderick." And The Voice Replied: "Willingly Do I Open, For He Hath Slain My Sweet Sister With His Chill Heart And Cruel Ways, So She Lieth In The Dark Earth Who Was The Sunshine Of Our House." Then The Door Swung Open So The Black Coach And Its Six Horses Could Enter. Again The Strange Coach Drove On, Till It Came To The Castle Door, And There The Evil Being Who Was Inside Cast Himself Upon The Ground, And, Going To The Door, Knocked Thereon Three Times, And A Woman'S Voice Answered, Saying: "Who Art Thou?" And The Evil One Replied: "I Am He Who Claims The Soul Of Black Roderick." And The Woman Said: "Welcome Thou Art, Then, For He Hath Destroyed My Heart'S Treasure And Buried It In The Ground; So I Go Sorrowing All My Days For The Suffering He Caused Her On Earth, And For Her Young And Unready Death." Then The Bolts And The Bars Fell From The Door With A Great Noise, And The Evil Thing Entered The Castle. Now, As Black Roderick Lay Upon His Death-Bed Tossing And Turning In His Fever, There Rushed Unto Him One Of The Serving-Men In A Great Terror And Fear. And Of What They Spoke Together Shall I Sing Thee, Lest Thou Grow Weary Of My Prose: There Is One At The Door, O My Master, At The Door, Who Is Bidding You Come! Who Is He That Wakes Me In The Darkness, Calling When All The World'S Dumb? Six Horses Has He To His Carriage, Six Horses Blacker Than The Night; And Their Twelve Red Eyes In The Shadows Twelve Lamps He Carries For His Light. And His Coach Is A Coffin Black And Mouldy, A Huge Oak Coffin Open Wide; He Asks For Your Soul, God Have Mercy! Who Is Calling At The Door Outside. Who Let Him Through The Gates Of My Garden, Where Stronger Bolts Have Never Been? 'Twas The Father Of The Fair Little Lady You Drove To Her Grave So Green. And Who Let Him Pass Through The Court-Yard, By Loosening The Bar And Chain? Oh, Who But The Brother Of Your Mistress Who Lies In The Cold And The Rain! Then Who Drew The Bolts At The Portal And Into My House Bade Him Go? She, The Mother Of The Poor Little Colleen Who Lies In Her Youth So Low. Who Stands That He Dare Not Enter The Door Of My Chamber Between? Oh, The Ghost Of The Fair Little Lady Who Lies In The Church-Yard Green. Now, When The Evil One Saw The Spirit Of The Young Bride At The Door, Her Arms Spread Out In The Form Of A Cross, He Did Not Know What To Do. And Had Not Black Roderick, In His Joy And Desire, Sprung From His Bed On Hearing The Voice Of His Mistress Bidding Him Fear Not, All Perchance Had Gone Well. But Roderick, Sick And Eager For The Sight Of His Bride, Flung Open The Door, And Was Seized By The Evil One And Carried Away. Now, The Spirit Of The Little Bride Followed The Horrible Coach That Contained Her Love, Even To The Flaming Gates Of Hell, And There The Evil One Stopped And Looked Upon Her With Desire. "Better," Quoth He, "A Thousand Times To Let Go This Wretched Fellow, Who Will Surely Return To Me Later, If I Can Gain This Soul Who Hath Come Even Out Of The Kingdom Of Heaven." And, Turning To The Poor Little Bride, He Said: "Give Thou Thyself To Me, And I Will Let This Love Of Thine Return To The World To Work Out His Redemption." But The Little Soul, Weeping, Saith: "Nay, My Soul Belongeth To Christ In Heaven, And I Must Not Give It To Thee; But For Seven Years Shall I Be Thy Slave If Thou Givest This Dear One To Me At The End." So The Evil One Thought To Himself: "Would I Could Steal This White Soul From Heaven To Be The Greatest Gem In My Crown Of Triumph, And To Serve Me Seven Years. At The End Of That Time Her Heart Will Incline To Evil, And She Will Become Mine." And Again She Spoke To Him, And Of What She Said I Shall Sing Thee, Lest Thou Grow Weary Of My Prose: If You Will Let His Young Soul Go Free, I Will Serve You True And Well, For Seven Long Years To Be Your Slave In The Bitterest Place Of Hell. "Seven Long Years If You Be My Slave I Will Let His Soul Go Free." The Stranger Drew Her Then By The Hand, And Into The Night Went He. Seven Long Years Did She Serve Him True By The Blazing Gates Of Hell, And On Every Soul That Entered In The Tears Of Her Sorrow Fell. Seven Long Years Did She Keep The Place To Open The Doors Accurst, And Every Soul That Her Tear-Drops Knew, It Would Neither Burn Nor Thirst. And Once She Let In Her Father Dear, And Once Her Brother Through. Once Came A Friend She Had Loved Full Well: Oh, Bitter It Was To Do! Now, No Toil In The Great Halls Of The Evil One Could Have Been More Bitter To Endure Than To Unbar The Door For The Lost Souls; For Her Sweet Tenderness Was Tortured Most Of All By The Despairing Ghosts That Passed To Their Eternal Perdition, And Her Hands Felt Guilty At Letting Them Go Through. But Of All The Sorrows None Was So Great As For Her Eyes To See The Tortures Of Black Roderick, Who Stood Beside Her In His Anguish, For The Tears That Fell Upon Him From Her Eyes Gave Him No Relief, Since He Had Injured Her On Earth. She Held Her Hands To Hold The Fiery Waters That Fell Upon Him, And Her Tender Body Strove To Stand Between Him And His Tortures In Vain. Seeing Her So Endeavoring, The Evil One Spoke, Saying: "What Hast Thou About Thee, Little Soul, That Thou Art Free From My Fire And Torments?" Then The Little Bride Remembered The Tears She Had Hidden In Her Heart, That Had Fallen Upon Her In Heaven From The Angel'S Eyes, And She Drew Them Forth. And The Tears Spoke To Her, Saying: "Put Us Not Away, Lest The Torments Overpower Thee, So Thou Mayst Never Come To The Kingdom Of Heaven." But The Little Bride Lifted Them Upon The Heart And Mouth Of Black Roderick, So He Suffered No More The Cruel Tortures Of The Lost. Now, When The Evil One Saw This, He Smiled To Himself, "For," Qu