‘Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy regions stream so bright,
That birds would sing and think it were not night!’”
“Ach! That is so!”
As the final words left his lips, a rich note of melody stirred the air, and a song in which words and music seemed thoroughly welded together, rose vibratingly up to the quiet sky:
“Here by the sea,
My Love found me!
Seagulls over the waves were swinging;
Mermaids down in their caves were singing,
And one little star in the rosy sky
Sparkled above like an angel’s eye!
My Love found me,
And I and he
Plighted our troth eternally!
Oh day of splendour,
And self-surrender!
The day when my Love found me!
Here, by the sea,
My King crown’d me!
Wild ocean sang for my Coronation,
With the jubilant voice of a mighty nation!—
‘Mid the towering rocks he set my throne,
And made me forever and ever his own!
My King crown’d me,
And I and he
Are one till the world shall cease to be!
Oh sweet love story!
Oh night of glory!
The night when my King crown’d me!”
No language could ever describe the marvellous sweetness of the voice that sung these lines; it was so full of exquisite triumph, tenderness and passion, that it seemed more supernatural than human. When the song ceased, a great wave dashed on the shore, like a closing organ chord, and Von Glauben spoke.
“There! You wanted your own way, my princess, and you have had it! You have sung like one of the seraphim;—do not be surprised if mortals are drawn to listen. Sst! What is that?”
There was a pause. The King had inadvertently cracked a twig on one of the pine-boughs he was holding back in an endeavour to see the speakers. But he now boldly pushed on, beckoning De Launay to follow close, and in another minute had emerged on a small sandy plateau, which led, by means of an ascending path, to a rocky eminence, encircled by huge boulders and rocky pinnacles, which somewhat resembled peaks of white coral,—and here, on a height above him,—with the afternoon sun-glow bathing her in its full mellow radiance, sat a visibly enthroned goddess of the landscape,—a girl, or rather a perfect woman, more beautiful than any he had ever seen, or even imagined. He stared up at her in dazzled wonder, half blinded by the brightness of the sun and her almost equally blinding loveliness.
“Gloria!” he exclaimed breathlessly, hardly conscious of his own utterance; “You are Gloria!”
The fair vision rose, and came swiftly forward with an astonished look in her bright deep eyes.
“Yes!” she said, “I am Gloria!”