Part 25 (1/2)

Wilt thou so love me after death?

_Prince Henry._ In life's delight, in death's dismay, In storm and suns.h.i.+ne, night and day, In health, in sickness, in decay, Here and hereafter, I am thine!

Thou hast Fastrada's ring. Beneath The calm, blue waters of thine eyes Deep in thy steadfast soul it lies, And, undisturbed by this world's breath, With magic light its jewels s.h.i.+ne!

This golden ring, which thou hast worn Upon thy finger since the morn, Is but a symbol and a semblance, An outward fas.h.i.+on, a remembrance, Of what thou wearest within unseen, O my Fastrada, O my queen!

Behold! the hilltops all aglow With purple and with amethyst; While the whole valley deep below Is filled, and seems to overflow, With a fast-rising tide of mist.

The evening air grows damp and chill; Let us go in.

_Elsie._ Ah, not so soon.

See yonder fire! It is the moon Slow rising o'er the eastern hill.

It glimmers on the forest tips, And through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, And makes the heart in love with night.

_Prince Henry._ Oft on this terrace, when the day Was closing, have I stood and gazed, And seen the landscape fade away, And the white vapors rise and drown Hamlet and vineyard, tower and town While far above the hilltops blazed.

But men another hand than thine Was gently held and clasped in mine; Another head upon my breast Was laid, as thine is now, at rest.

Why dost thou lift those tender eyes With so much sorrow and surprise?

A minstrel's, not a maiden's hand, Was that which in my own was pressed.

A manly form usurped thy place, A beautiful, but bearded face, That now is in the Holy Land, Yet in my memory from afar Is s.h.i.+ning on us like a star.

But linger not. For while I speak, A sheeted spectre white and tall, The cold mist climbs the castle wall, And lays his hand upon thy cheek!

(_They go in._)

EPILOGUE.

THE TWO RECORDING ANGELS ASCENDING.