Thus comforting themselves, they saw The murderers of their friend above his corse Build roughly of the stones that smote him dead A kind of cairn in mockery of a tomb. Melted away meanwhile the multitude In silence, and, soon after, all were gone Save the true lovers of the man. Then these Gathered together round the accurséd spot, Now hallowed, where he stood to suffer, where He prayed, and where he fell, and whence he rose Deathless, leaving the sacred body there, Dead, desolate of the spirit, but still dear, Most dear to them. And so, with many tears Fast falling that nigh blinded them, they took From off the body, one by one, the stones-- Almost as if they loved them, with such care!-- Until his face, his fair disfeatured face, And his form marred and broken, open lay To the mild moon that seemed to sympathize, And touched and softened all with healing beams. "Let us bear hence the sacred clay," they said, "And wash it from the pool of Siloam." Then Lazarus, with three fellow-helpers more-- Nathanael, Israelite indeed, was there, Joseph of Arimathæa too had come, Later, and Nicodemus, by nightfall, These were the chosen four, with Lazarus-- Making a litter of their robes, took up The noble form that lately Stephen wore, And gently carried it to Siloam. With soft lustration there at loving hands, The dust and blood were wholly washed away; The hair and beard then decently arranged, With skill that hid the wounds on cheek or brow, The eyelids closed on eyes that saw no more, The scarce cold palms folded upon the breast, Stephen it seemed indeed just fallen asleep. Then they were glad that Ruth would see him so, So peaceful and so beautiful asleep, Expecting soon to waken satisfied! "To-morrow will be time enough," they said, "To tell Ruth--let her sleep to-night." But Ruth Slept not, or if she slept, slept but to dream Of Stephen and his last hands on her head. Under the balmy moon, up Olivet To Bethany they bore the holy dust, And there, beneath the roof that sheltered oft The Man who had not where to rest His head, They laid the body down to dreamless sleep; And slept themselves until the morrow morn. BOOK IX. RUTH AND RACHEL.