And greater dread, each future storm they fear; In burning vigil, deadliest foe to sleep, In their distempered frame if fever keep, Or the pained side their wonted rest prevent, Behold some incensed god his bow has bent! All pains, all aches, are stones and arrows hurled At bold offenders in this nether world! From them no crested cock acceptance meets! Their lamb before the altar vainly bleats! Can pardoning Heaven on guilty sickness smile? Or is there victim than itself more vile? Where steadfast virtue dwells not in the breast, Man is a wavering creature at the best! From the Latin of JUVENAL. * * * * * THE FOOLISH VIRGINS. The Queen looked up, and said, "O maiden, if indeed you list to sing, Sing, and unbind my heart, that I may weep." Whereat full willingly sang the little maid: "Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! Ye cannot enter now. "No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! Ye cannot enter now. "No light; so late! and dark and chill the night! O, let us in, that we may find the light! Too late, too late! Ye cannot enter now. "Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? O, let us in, though late, to kiss his feet! No, no, too late! Ye cannot enter now." So sang the novice, while full passionately, Her head upon her hands, wept the sad Queen. ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. * * * * * UP HILL. Does the road wind up hill all the way? _Yes, to the very end._ Will the day's journey take the whole long day? _From morn to night, my friend_. But is there for the night a resting-place? _A roof for when the slow dark hours begin._ May not the darkness hide it from my face? _You cannot miss that inn_. Shall I meet other wayfarers at night? _Those who have gone before._ Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? _They will not keep you standing at that door_. Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? _Of labor you shall find the sum._ Will there be beds for me and all who seek? _Yea, beds for all who come_. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI. * * * * * PER PACEM AD LUCEM. I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be A pleasant road; I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me Aught of its load; I do not ask that flowers should always spring Beneath my feet; I know too well the poison and the sting Of things too sweet. For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord, I plead, Lead me aright-- Though strength should falter, and though heart should bleed-- Through Peace to Light. I do not ask, O Lord, that thou shouldst shed Full radiance here; Give but a ray of peace, that I may tread Without a fear.