"I rung the bell—a servant bade me in.
I waited long. At last the father came—
All pale and suffering. I could see remorse
Was gnawing at his heart; as I arose
He trembled like a culprit on the drop.
'O, sir,' he said, 'whatever be your quest,
I pray you leave me with my dead to-day;
I cannot look on any living face
Till her dead face is gone forevermore.'
"'And who hath done this cruel thing?' I said.
'Explain,' he faltered. 'Pray you, sir, explain!'
I said, and thrust the letters in his hand.
And as he sat in silence reading hers,
I saw the pangs of conscience on his face;
I saw him tremble like a stricken soul;
And then a tear-drop fell upon his hand;
And there we sat in silence. Then he groaned
And fell upon his knees and hid his face,
And stretched his hand toward me wailing out—
'I cannot bear this burden on my soul;
O Paul!—O God!—forgive me or I die.'
"His anguish touched my heart. I took his hand,
And kneeling by him prayed a solemn prayer—
'Father, forgive him, for he knew not what
He did who broke the bond that bound us twain.
O may her spirit whisper in his ear
Forever—God is love and all is well.
"The iron man—all bowed and broken down—
Sobbed like a child. He laid his trembling hand
With many a fervent blessing on my head,
And, with the crust all crumbled from his heart,
Arose and led me to her silent couch;
And I looked in upon my darling dead.
Mine—O mine in heaven forevermore!
God's angel sweetly smiling in her sleep;
How beautiful—how radiant of heaven!
The ring I gave begirt her finger still;
Her golden hair was wreathed with immortelles;
The lips half-parted seemed to move in psalm
Or holy blessing. As I kissed her brow,
It seemed as if her dead cheeks flushed again
As in those happy days beneath the pines;
And as my warm tears fell upon her face,
Methought I heard that dear familiar voice
So full of love and faith and calmest peace,
So near and yet so far and far away,
So mortal, yet so spiritual—like an air
Of softest music on the slumbering bay
Wafted on midnight wings to silent shores,
When myriad stars are twinkling in the sea:
[Illustration: 'AND I LOOKED IN UPON MY DARLING DEAD.']
"'Paul, O Paul, forgive and be forgiven;
Earth is all trial;—there is peace in heaven.'
"Aye, Captain, in that sad and solemn hour
I laid my hand upon the arm of Christ,
And he hath led me all the weary way
To this last battle. I shall win through Him;
And ere you hear the reveille again
Paul and Pauline, amid the psalms of heaven,
Embraced will kneel and at the feet of God
Receive His benediction. Let me sleep.
You know the rest;—I'm weary and must sleep.
An angel's bugle-blast will waken me,
But not to pain, for there is peace in heaven."
He slept, but not the silent sleep of death.
I felt his fitful pulse and caught anon
The softly-whispered words "Pauline," and "Peace."
Anon he clutched with eager, nervous hand,
And in hoarse whisper shouted—"Steady, men!"
Then sunk again. Thus passed an hour or more
And he woke, half-raised himself and said
With feeble voice and eyes strange luster-lit:
"Captain, my boat is swiftly sailing out
Into the misty and eternal sea
From out whose waste no mortal craft returns.
The fog is closing round me and the mist
Is damp and cold upon my hands and face.
Why should I fear?—the loved have gone before:
I seem to hear the plash of coming oars;
The mists are lifting and the boat is near.
'Tis well. To die as I am dying now—
A soldier's death amid the gladsome shouts
Of victory for which my puny hands
Did their full share, albeit it was small,
Was all my late ambition. Bring the Flag,
And hold it over my head. Let me die thus
Under the stars I've followed. Dear old Flag—"
But here his words became inaudible,
As in the mazes of the Mammoth Cave,
Fainter and fainter on the listening ear,
The low, retreating voices die away.
His eyes were closed; a gentle smile of peace
Sat on his face. I held his nerveless hand,
And bent my ear to catch his latest breath;
And as the spirit fled the pulseless clay,
I heard—or thought I heard—his wonder-words—
"Pauline,—how beautiful!"