A Little Pilgrim in the UnseenOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Religion
A Little Pilgrim in the Unseen
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Death -- Fiction
And the little Pilgrim's heart leaped up in her, to think she was now
going to see a home in this wonderful city; and they went along hand in
hand, and though they were three together, and many were coming and
going, there was no difficulty, for every one made way for them. And
there was a little murmur of pleasure as the poet passed, and those who
had heard his poem made obeisance to him, and thanked him, and thanked
the Father for him, that he was able to show them so many beautiful
things. And they walked along the street which was shining with colour,
and saw, as they passed, how the master painter had come to his work,
and was standing upon the balcony where the little Pilgrim had been, and
bringing out of the wall, under his hand, faces which were full of life,
and which seemed to spring forth as if they had been hidden there. "Let
us wait a little and see him working," the poet said: and all round
about the people stopped on their way, and there was a soft cry of
pleasure and praise all through the beautiful street. And the painter
with whom the little Pilgrim had talked before came, and stood behind
her as if he had been an old friend, and called out to her at every new
touch to mark how this and that was done. She did not understand as he
did, but she saw how beautiful it was, and she was glad to have seen the
great painter, as she had been glad to hear the great poet. It seemed to
the little Pilgrim as if everything happened well for her, and that no
one had ever been so blessed before. And to make it all more sweet, this
new friend, this great and sweet lady, always held her hand, and pressed
it softly when something more lovely appeared; and even the pictured
faces on the wall seemed to beam upon her, as they came out one by one
like the stars in the sky. Then the three went on again, and passed by
many more beautiful palaces, and great streets leading away into the
light, till you could see no farther; and they met with bands of
singers, who sang so sweetly that the heart seemed to leap out of the
Pilgrim's breast to meet with them, for above all things this was what
she had loved most. And out of one of the palaces there came such
glorious music, that everything she had seen and heard before seemed as
nothing in comparison. And amid all these delights they went on and on,
but without wearying, till they came out of the streets into lovely
walks and alleys, and made their way to the banks of a great river,
which seemed to sing too, a soft melody of its own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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