"Why had it been permitted?" She fell asleep with the question in her heart, and was awakened by the singing of the waits. It was a chill, windy night, with a young moon plunging wildly in and out a sea of black driving clouds. She sat by the fire listening to the dying melody, and thinking of the Christmas-eve when Phyllis stood by her side, and the world seemed so full of happiness and hope. She had had a letter from Phyllis a few days before, a very loving, comforting, trustful letter, and she thought she would read it again. It had been laid within a book which Phyllis had given her, and she brought it to the fireside. It was a volume of poetry, and Elizabeth was not poetical. She could not remember having read a page in this volume, but as she lifted the letter her eyes fell upon these words: "The priests must serve Each in his course, and we must stand in turn Awake with sorrow, in the temple dim To bless the Lord by night." The words affected her strangely; she turned the page backward, and read, "It is the night, And in the temple of the Lord, not made By mortal hands, the lights are burning low Before the altar. Clouds of darkness fill The vastness of the sacred aisles.... ... A few short years ago And all the temple courts were thronged with those Who worshiped and gave thanks before they went To take their rest. Who shall bless His name at midnight? "Lo! a band of pale Yet joyful priests do minister around The altar, where the lights are burning low In the breathless night. Each grave brow wears the crown Of sorrow, and each heart is kept awake By its own restless pain: for these are they To whom the night-watch is appointed. See! They lift their hands and bless God in the night Whilst we are sleeping: Those to whom the King Has measured out a cup of sorrow, sweet With his dear love; yet very hard to drink, Are waking in his temple; and the eyes That cannot sleep for sorrow or for pain Are lifted up to heaven, and sweet low songs Broken by patient tears, arise to God. "The priests must serve Each in his course, and we must stand in turn Awake with sorrow in the temple dim, To bless the Lord by night. We will not fear When we are called at midnight by some stroke Of sudden pain, to rise and minister Before the Lord. We too will bless his name In the solemn night, and stretch out our hands to him." And she paused, and lifted a face full of joy and confidence. A new light came into her soul; and, standing up before the Lord, she answered the message in the words of Bunyan, "I am willing with all my heart, Lord!" CHAPTER IX. "Walk boldly and wisely in that light thou hast, There is a hand above will help thee on.