The morning was as beautiful as this one, and, as I think I have said before, the season of the year the same. Already here and there I noticed, as I came along, familiar faces in the fields, and some, too, of my neighbors I met upon the road; but contrary to my usual custom l avoided the familiar chat so frequently indulged in when we met each other at such an early hour, passing on with a "good morrow" only, eager to reach Drumbhan.
Some twenty minutes brought me to the chapel, for I lived then as I do now, a short mile below there. I went in to say a prayer, conscious of my weakness, in the hope to shake the weight from off my shoulders that pressed me down so heavily. Thence passing into the graveyard here, I turned my eyes in this direction to behold, prostrate upon the grave of his. mother, the loving, harmless boy.
My knees trembled as with palsy. How came he here? I said, and when? Why, I asked not; I knew too well of this love that was more than earthly. Tottering, I drew near; I called him by his name. He answered not. I called again. No voice replied; nor sound, nor motion was there save the echo of my voice and my hurried footfall as I neared the spot. I stooped, I raised him in my arms, I parted from his brow the long hair damp with the dew of morning. I gazed upon that pale, pale face, which, in the holy peace that rested there, spoke of the goodness and the mercy of our Heavenly Father, into whose holy keeping the spotless soul had passed. He was dead.
The sexton's tale was told.
ORIGINAL.
LIGHT.
Gaudium lucis AEternae.
When the twilight veil is closing
Gently o'er each darkening scene,
Love we not the shades reposing
Underneath its misty screen?
When, like ruins dim and hoary,
Forms are outlined on the sky,
See we not surpassing glory
In the day-god's closing eye?
Yes! But from the LIGHT is given
All the grace of coming night;
And the change from day to even
Is a change of varied light!
Silent midnight reigneth over
Scenes so lately bright and fair,
Shades like gliding spectres hover.
Round each faint-traced image there;
And the darkness' onward stealing
Shrouds the earth with dusky pall,
But from LIGHT, the dim revealing
Even of midnight's glories fall.
And the purer spirit-vision
Is a world all fair and bright;
Ever in the dream elysian
Joy is of "eternal light."
Marie.