THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. FROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNOR Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The church of the village Stood gleaming white in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the belfry, Tipped with a vane of metal, the friendly frames of the Spring-sun Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles aforetime. Clear was the heaven and blue, and May, with her cap crowned with roses, Stood in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace! With lips rosy-tinted Whispered the race of the flowers, and merry on balancing branches Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest. Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a leaf-woven arbor Stood its old-fashioned gate; and within upon each cross of iron Hung was a sweet-scented garland, new twined by the hands of affection. Even the dial, that stood on a fountain among the departed (There full a hundred years had it stood), was embellished with blossoms. Like to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet, Who on his birthday is crowned by children and children's children, So stood the ancient prophet, and mute with pencil of iron Marked on the table of stone, and measured the swift-changing moment, While all around at his feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet. Also the church within was adorned, for this was the season In which the young, their parent's hope, and the loved-ones of heaven, Should at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their baptism. Therefore each nook and corner was swept and cleaned, and the dust was Blown from the walls and ceiling, and from the oil-painted benches. There stood the church like a garden; the Feast of the Leafy Pavilions[A] Saw we in living presentment. From noble arms on the church wall Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of oakwood Budded once more anew, as aforetime the rod before Aaron. Wreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed with silver, Under its conopy fastened, a necklace had on of wind-flowers. But in front of the choir, round the altarpiece painted by Horberg,[B] Crept a garland gigantic; and bright-curling tresses of angels Peeped, like the sun from a cloud, out of the shadowy leaf-work. Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling, And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets. Loud rang the bells already; the thronging crowd was assembled Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching. Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones from the organ, Hover like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits. Like as Elias in heaven, when he cast off from him his mantle, Even so cast off the soul its garments of earth; and with one voice Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal