Entering her home, she bade that food be given
The famished boy; and when the maid brought milk,
Honey and bread with broilëd fish, he said,
With exultation: "Now I know this is
The house—it's all here just the same, and He'll
Be here to-night." With wingëd feet the wife
Sped up the stair to meet her husband's step,
And in a rapture told him all, and of
The wonder-heart below. "Heaven, a fair child,
An angel boy, has sent our stone to roll
Away! For us his vision is no less
Than for himself. O husband, this is life's
Supremest hour for us!—'I shall know him
By the love,' sweetly he says."—"It shall be
So indeed!" cried the father's yearning heart.
As she returned, the child most eager said,
In a sweet voice half-sob, but full of hope,
"O wash my face and comb my hair, before
I see my father—'tis not too late yet?"
The touch of the ineffable child-trust
Pierced deep her heart, yet with assuring tones
The words fell: "Philip, come, let us now go
To him."
The arras opened on a face
Noble and winsome sweet, though smiles were close
To tears. As azure bird on mountain stream
Halts a brief moment on some jutting crag,
Ere as a flash of streaming light it cleaves
The dewy darkness of the trickling dell;
So for a moment halted the sweet child,
Took one step forward, and then leapt into
The arms where death-shade once was deep as night,
But where commingling love now glads the gloom,
All lit by the sweet azure of the heart.
With head thrown back, and questioning eyes agaze:
"Father—you're—changed!" he said, "but by the love,
We know each other—by the love, the love!"
The father's heaving heart did echo sweet,
"The love, the love!"
And nestling down upon
The manly breast, the curly head, soft-stroked,
And soothed with all the lullabies of love,
Was rocked, like harbored sail, to rest of sleep,
Lapt in the love which fed his simple faith,
And poured a golden Easter in the heart
Of her who groped in darkness 'mong the tombs.
[NOTES.]
Page 17. and erst "rose noble" bore thy grace.—The "rose noble," an ancient English gold coin, first minted by Edward III., was stamped with the figure of the rose.
19. The phantom of the buried tide.—This phenomenon is not infrequently seen in the evenings of the last of August or early September. It is caused by the condensation of the invisible vapor of the air resting on the dyked lands—the former sea-bed. As the condensed vapor lies close upon the ground, the illusion of a full sea is complete in the moonlight, the shore line and creeks being perfectly traced.
28. The title deeds of these rich shores are thine.—Geologists affirm that Partridge Island is older than the mainland, or than the other islands mentioned.