Early in 804 he was evidently failing. He prayed earnestly that he might die on the day on which the Holy Spirit came upon the Apostles in tongues of fire. All through Lent he was able to move about, night after night, to the several basilicas of saints which were included in the monastery of St. Martin, cleansing himself from his sins with much groaning. He kept the solemnity of the Lord’s Resurrection; but on the night of the Ascension he fell upon his couch, oppressed by languor even unto death, and unable to speak. The Annals of Pettau tell us that this was a paralytic stroke, and that it fell on Thursday, May 8, in the evening, after sunset. On the third day before his death he recovered the power of speech, and with a voice of exultation sang through his favourite antiphon, _O clavis David_, based upon Isaiah xxii. 22: “The key of the house of David I will lay upon his shoulder; so he shall open and none shall shut, he shall shut and none shall open.” Then he repeated a number of verses from several psalms: “Like as the hart desireth the waterbrooks.” “O how amiable are Thy dwellings, Thou Lord of hosts; blessed are they that dwell in Thy house.” “Unto Thee do I lift up mine eyes.” “One thing I have desired of the Lord.” “Unto Thee, O Lord, will I lift up my soul.” And others of like kind. On the day of Pentecost, matins having been said, at full dawn, just at the hour at which he was wont to enter the church for Mass, the holy soul of Alcuin was released from the flesh. He had prayed months before that he might die on Whit Sunday; on Whit Sunday he died. APPENDIX A (Page 26) It would appear that when Alcuin was not allowed by Charlemagne to retire to Fulda, as he had wished to do, an impulse of affectionate responsibility brought him to pour himself out in advice and help to those with whom he had hoped to spend his last days. This is his letter to the monks of Fulda. [Sidenote: Ep. 186. A.D. 801-2.] “To the most holy, and by us with all love to be cherished, the brethren of the holy Boniface[285], our father and protector, the humble levite Alchuin wishes eternal beatitude in Christ. “I am mindful of your most sweet love, with which you most benignantly received me long ago with all joy. Greatly as I then was glad in your presence, so greatly is my mind now tortured in your absence, desiring to see you whom it loves, to have present you whom it esteems. Since this is denied to the eyes of the flesh, let love be made perpetual by spiritual presence; love which can come to an end has never been true love.