The mystery of love, of love, of love, Of hope, of joy, of life itself, she felt; The crown of life, which she had sacrificed In scornful pride for lust of power and place. The lady bow'd her head, and o'er her swept A wave of anguish, and she knew despair. "Could I but see him once again!" she moan'd, "See him, and beg forgiveness, and then die!" Did the Archangel Michael, standing there Upon her left, in shining silver, hear? Who knows? Her prayer was answer'd like a flash; For at that moment, clear and sweet o'er all The mingled music of the chanting choir, There rose a voice that thrill'd her inmost soul: It breathed a blessing; utter'd soft a prayer. No need to look: and yet she look'd, and saw A hooded monk before the altar kneel, A graceful presence, tho' in sordid dress. And as she gazed the cowl slipp'd back and show'd (But dimly thro' the incense-perfumed cloud) A pure pale face, a golden tonsured head, And blue eyes raised to heaven. Then the truth Was there reveal'd to her that he had left The world to watch and pray for such as she. Out of the castled-gate she hurried forth: What matter'd where she went, to east or west? What matter'd peasant's warning that the sand Was shifting ever, and the rushing tide Gave them no quarter whom it overtook? 'Twas death she courted, and with heedless step Onward to meet it swift the lady fled. Death is so beautiful at such a time, When all the land in summer sunshine lies, And lapse of distant waves breaks pleasantly The silence with a soothing dreamy sound, And danger seems no nearer than the sky, He tempts us from afar with hope of rest. She hurried on in search of death, nor heard That eager footsteps followed where she went. The voice that call'd her was not real, she thought, But a sweet portion of a strange sweet dream-- For now the terrible anguish quickly pass'd, And sense of peace at hand was all she felt. "O stop!" Ah! that was real. She turn'd and saw, Nor saw a moment till she felt his grasp Strong and determined on her rounded arm. "Thou shalt not die!" he cried. "What madness this?" "Madness!" she echoed: "nay, my love, 'tis bliss-- The first my life has known--to stand here still With thee beside me, and to wait for death. I know my heart at last, but all too late! I may not love thee, I another's wife; Thou mayst not love me, thou hast wedded heaven. We cannot be together in this world; I cannot live alone and know thee here. And thou art troubled! I for beneath that garb Thy heart beats ever hot with love for me; For love will not be quell'd by monkish vows. But all things change in death! so let us die Thus, hand in hand, and so together pass, And be together thro' eternity!"