But when they the portal entered, he forgot his lovely bride—
Forgot his love, forgot his God, and his heart swelled high with pride.
“Ah!” thought he; “how great a master am I! When the organ plays,
How the vast cathedral-arches will re-echo with my praise!”
Up the aisle the gay procession moved. The altar shone afar,
With every candle gleaming through soft shadows like a star.
But he listened, listened, listened, with no thought of love or prayer,
For the swelling notes of triumph from his organ standing there.
All was silent. Nothing heard he save the priest’s low monotone,
And the bride’s robe trailing softly o’er the floor of fretted stone.