"I wakened once—at midnight—a wild cry—
'Paul, O Paul!' rang through my dreams and broke
My slumber. I arose, but all was still,
And then I, slept again and dreamed till morn.
In all my dreams her dear, sweet face appeared—
Now radiant as a star, and now all pale—
Now glad with smiles and now all wet with tears.
Then came a dream that agonized my soul,
While every limb was bound as if in chains.
Methought I saw her in the silent night
Leaning o'er misty waters dark and deep:
A moan—a plash of waters—and, O Christ!—
Her agonized face upturned—imploring hands
Stretched out toward me, and a wailing cry—
'Paul, O Paul!' Then face and hands went down,
And o'er her closed the deep and dismal flood
Forever—but it could not drown the cry:
'Paul, O Paul!' was ringing in my ears;
'Paul, O Paul!' was throbbing in my heart;
And moaning, sobbing in my shuddering soul
Trembled the wail of anguish—'Paul, O Paul!'
"Then o'er the waters stole the silver dawn,
And lo a fairy boat with silken sail!
And in the boat an angel at the helm,
And at her feet the form of her I loved.
The white mists parted as the boat sped on
In silence, lessening far and far away.
And then the sunrise glimmered on the sail
A moment, and the angel turned her face:
My mother!—and I gave a joyful cry,
And stretched my hands, but lo the hovering mists
Closed in around them and the vision passed.
"The morning sun stole through the window-blinds
And fell upon my face and wakened me,
And I lay musing—thinking of Pauline.
Yes, she should know the depths of all my heart—
The love I bore her all those lonely years;
The hope that held me steadfast to my toil,
And feel the higher and the holier love
Her precious gift had wakened in my soul.
Yea, I would bless her for that precious gift—
I had not known its treasures but for her,
And O for that would I forgive her all,
And bless the hand that smote me to the soul.
That would be comfort to me all my days,
And if there came a bitter time to her,
'Twould pain her less to know that I forgave.
"A hasty rapping at my chamber-door;
In came my school-boy friend whose guest I was,
And said:
'Come, Paul, the town is all ablaze!
A sad—a strange—a marvelous suicide!
Pauline, who was to be a bride to-day,
Was missed at dawn and after sunrise found—
Traced by her robe and bonnet on the bridge,
Whence she had thrown herself and made an end—'
"And he went on, but I could hear no more;
It fell upon me like a flash from heaven.
As one with sudden terror dumb, I turned
And in my pillow buried up my face.
Tears came at last, and then my friend passed out
In silence. O the agony of that hour!
O doubts and fears and half-read mysteries
That tore my heart and tortured all my soul!
"I arose. About the town the wildest tales
And rumors ran; dame Gossip was agog.
Some said she had been ill and lost her mind,
Some whispered hints, and others shook their heads
But none could fathom the marvelous mystery.
Bearing a bitter anguish in my heart,
Half-crazed with dread and doubt and boding fears,
Hour after hour alone, disconsolate,
Among the scenes where we had wandered oft
I wandered, sat where once the stately pines
Domed the fair temple where we learned to love.
O spot of sacred memories—how changed!
Yet chiefly wanting one dear, blushing face
That, in those happy days, made every place
Wherever we might wander—hill or dale—
Garden of love and peace and happiness.
So heavy-hearted I returned. My friend
Had brought for me a letter with his mail.
I knew the hand upon the envelope—
With throbbing heart I hastened to my room;
With trembling hands I broke the seal and read.
One sheet inclosed another—one was writ
At midnight by my loved and lost Pauline.
Inclosed within, a letter false and forged,
Signed with my name—such perfect counterfeit,
At sight I would have sworn it was my own.
And thus her letter ran:
"'Beloved Paul,
May God forgive you as my heart forgives.
Even as a vine that winds about an oak,
Rot-struck and hollow-hearted, for support,
Clasping the sapless branches as it climbs
With tender tendrils and undoubting faith,
I leaned upon your troth; nay, all my hopes—
My love, my life, my very hope of heaven—
I staked upon your solemn promises.
I learned to love you better than my God;
My God hath sent me bitter punishment.
O broken pledges! what have I to live
And suffer for? Half mad in my distress,
Yielding at last to father's oft request,
I pledged my hand to one whose very love
Would be a curse upon me all my days.
To-morrow is the promised wedding day;
To morrow!—but to-morrow shall not come!
Come gladlier, death, and make an end of all!
How many weary days and patiently
I waited for a letter, and at last
It came—a message crueler than death.
O take it back!—and if you have a heart
Yet warm to pity her you swore to love,
Read it—and think of those dear promises—
O sacred as the Savior's promises—
You whispered in my ear that solemn night
Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears.
And know that I forgive, belovèd Paul:
Meet me in heaven. God will not frown upon
The sin that saves me from a greater sin,
And sends my soul to Him. Farewell—Farewell.'"
Here he broke down. Unto his pallid lips
I held a flask of wine. He sipped the wine
And closed his eyes in silence for a time,
Resuming thus:
"You see the wicked plot.
We both were victims of a crafty scheme
To break our hearts asunder. Forgery
Had done its work and pride had aided it.
The spurious letter was a cruel one—
Casting her off with utter heartlessness,
And boasting of a later, dearer love,
And begging her to burn the billets-doux
A moon-struck boy had sent her ere he found
That pretty girls were plenty in the world.
"Think you my soul was roiled with anger?—No;—
God's hand was on my head. A keen remorse
Gnawed at my heart. O false and fatal pride
That blinded me, else I had seen the plot
Ere all was lost—else I had saved a life
To me most precious of all lives on earth—
Yea, dearer then than any soul in heaven!
False pride—the ruin of unnumbered souls—
Thou art the serpent ever tempting me;
God, chastening me, has bruised thy serpent head.
O faithful heart in silence suffering—
True unto death to one she could but count
A perjured villain, cheated as she was!
Captain, I prayed—'twas all that I could do.
God heard my prayer, and with a solemn heart,
Bearing the letters in my hand, I went
To ask a favor of the man who crushed
And cursed my life—to look upon her face—
Only to look on her dear face once more.