But up in Heaven, where memories cease Because the blessed have won to peace, One pale saint shivered, and closer wound The shining raiment that wrapped her round. “Oh, fair is Heaven, and glad am I, Yet I fain would remember the days gone by. “The past is veiled, and I may not know, But I think there was sorrow, long ago; “The sun of Heaven is warm and bright, But I think there is rain on the earth to-night. “O Christ, because of Thine own sore pain Help all poor souls in the wind and rain.” THE VAIN SPELL The house sleeps dark and the moon wakes white, The fields are alight with dew; “Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night? I have waited the whole night through, For I knew, O Heart of my heart, I knew by my heart, That the night of all nights is this, When elm shall crack and lead shall part, When moulds shall sunder and shot bolts start To let you through to my kiss.” So spake she alone in the lonely house. She had wrapped her round with the spell, She called the call, she vowed the vow, And the heart she had pledged knew well That this was the night, the only night, When the moulds might be wrenched apart, When the living and dead, in the dead of the night, Might clasp once more, in the grave’s despite, For the price of a living heart. But out in the grave the corpse lay white And the grave clothes were wet with dew; “Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night, I have waited the whole night through, For I knew That I dared not leave my grave for an hour Since the hour of all hours is near, When you shall come to the hollow bower, In a cast of the wind, in a waft of the Power, To the heart that to-night beats here!” The moon grows pale and the house sleeps still; Ah, God! do the dead forget? The grave is white and the bed is chill, But a guest may be coming yet. But the hour has come and the hour has gone That never will come again; Love’s only chance is over and done, And the quick and the dead are twain, not one, And the price has been paid in vain. THE ADVENTURER The land of gold was far away, The sea a challenge roared between; I left my throne, my crown, my queen, And sailed out of the quiet bay. I met the challenge of the wave, The curses of the winds I mocked: The conquered wave my galley rocked, The wind became my envious slave. I brought much treasure from afar, Spices, and shells, and rich attire; Red rubies, fed with living fire, To lie where all my longings are. Heavy with spoil my keel ploughed low As slow we sailed into the bay, And long ago seemed yesterday And yesterday looked long ago.