"Day after day the sunbeams, ever new, shall come and go across its pillars, like a harp touched by an invisible hand, or be caught in its delicate traceries and entrapped down into the shadows.
"Easter after Easter, the Resurrection hymns of victory, ever new, shall echo from its vaulted roofs.
"Generation after generation shall worship there, and pass away, and rest beneath its shade.
"But thy name shall not be written there.
"Not there, among the dying and the sinning. Above; among the living and the holy. In the Book of Life. On the heart of the Holiest. For ever and for ever. Art thou content?"
Softly the light and music died away into heaven.
And the sufferer sighed.
"Content! Are the archangels content before the throne? Father, Redeemer, hast Thou indeed accepted my work thus? My offering and me—even me?"
And softly the humble and blessed spirit died away into the eternal light, into the hands of God, and was satisfied.