PS ITG9 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. {;iiap. Oopyrig-ht iVo. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. In Cloisters Dim. ....By.... / Cbarles gum fiabn. «««« Second and enlarged Edition. ««»« fl. C. Stonccvpbcr, Omaha, neb. M 77G15 Library or Cont|re«ia| Two Co«M£S REftivEO ; NOV 19 1900 Copyright entry SECOND COPY Oelivcred to ORDER DIVISION NOV 2;=} IQnf) Copyrighted, 1900, by C. C. Hahn. The Monk's Prayer. . . After Many Years And Thou, Too, "^qslXy Heart. Must Wait O Calm, Sweet Face, ... My Crucifix . . The Angelus The Chain of Our Sins It Seems So Far to Climb to God. . Septuagesima Ash Wednesday, Sweet Peace is Born, . . In the Cathedral When We Heard Stabat Mater, The Vesper Hymn of the Nuns, Qui Vive, A Dream of Solitude, . . The Deposed Priest, The Three Voices, . . A Daughter of Canaan, The Monk and the Mother Bird, The Angels and the Child, An Old Cradle Hymn, .... The Children Are Coming Home, . Asleep, The Two-Faced Death The Monk's Vision Ringing 'Cross the Weary Years, . 9 15 21 29 35 ,39 53 59 t\, 71 , 77 93 . 99 105 1U9 113 121 127 137 145 153 1 6 / 163 167 171 179 Cbe monk's Prayer. In Cloisters Dim. 11 One eve I knelt in a Franciscan church, And one, I need not name, beside n:ie knelt And prayed. The twilight cast a sacred gloom O'er nave and chancel. Sculptured saint, and saint In painting, shadowy, spirit-like, appeared. Her face alone shone clear and angel-like. And, looking upward to the one red light Which burned before the Host, a tender light In her own face, betokened angel smiles. The sound of children chanting childhood's hymns Of praise to Mary, floated down from stalls Up near the holy place. Two monks in cowls And girded with the three-fold cord, before The altar knelt in silent prayer, She, too. 12 In Cloisters Dim. Dear one, prayed, silent. Heart told heart she prayed For me. O, love, long since in Paradise! This night 1 vigil keep and kneel alone Where once those brothers knelt. O, love. lost love! — As, walking through fair vales of rest with Him In sacrament adored that eve by us, Thou lookest down upon a priest in prayer — Rememb'ring him who loved, and loving died To all the world for thee — this night, my saint. My loved one! pray for him who knelt with thee. J\m many Vears. In Cloisters Dim. 17 The peace of God has come to me at last ! At peace, I kneel before the sacred throne. At peace, at last! Through stormy days I've passed. But through the storm I've come unto my own. My own? Yes, yes. For peace is mine, and peace Is all that God gives unto man. O peace Of God! thrice blessed does it come to one Who for long years from sin has sought release. 1 wandered long in search of rest and peace; Bright crowns of glory were within my grasp; In Cloisters Dim. But as I touched them, all were turned to dust, And faded from my eager, fevered clasp. But now I'm thine! Holy Mother, hear And bless thine erring son who, at the last. Has come unto thy shelter to seek rest; Count not against him, evil days he's passed. The sun shines brighter 'gainst the convent walls; The green of trees is greener in the wood. The flowers bloom brighter, and it seems as if Through all the world there shines a beam of good. In Cloisters Dim. 19 The joy of peace! the joy of peace! By me, The seeking one, is found in cloisters dim. The path I've chosen is apart from men; And with the angels I now walk with Him. In cloisters dim I now do know that when I lived a worldling and loved not the things To which men think it best to give their strength; That all was naught to what thio cloister brings. The peace of God has come to me at last 1 Within these convent walls of rough-hewn stone I'll live. No thought of earth or what I've left Shall thrill my soul. I walk with God alone. HM Cbou, Coo, Weary mn, must m\i '0 tarry thou the Lord's leisure. Be strong, and He shall comfort thy heart. —Psalm xxvii. In Cloisters Dim. 23 "To wait." Epitome of life Is bound up in those words. No one. Not e"en the youth, with sturdy step. And proud design fair fame to win, But's learned already what it is: To do, to hope, and then to wait. A fid thou, too, weary heart, must wait. The busy man of trade, who sends His ships o'er oceans wide to lands In other climes, knows well the words: To wait and hope, to wait and fear. And thou, too, weary heart, must wait. The statesman, scholar, poet, priest. Sends out his venture on the sea Of life, and then must wait, and wait, Long days, long months, it may be years. 24 In Cloisters Dim. Before the hoped-for sails return. For though he works, he still must wait. And thou, too, weary heart, must wait. The man who lives beneath a cloud, On whom the world in scorn looks down. Tho' sinning worse than he ; the man Who sinned, but penitent, confessed; The man who doubts, and in the dark Is groping for a stronger faith; The man in pain, in heart pain sore, Who mourns the loss of friends or hopes. Whose weary days are spent in prayer — At morn for night, at night for morn Again; — all these have learned to wait; To wear brave smiles, and wait, and wait; In Cloisters Dim. 25 The innocent until the cloud Is lifted from his weary life; The penitent, forgiveness, peace; The doubting one, a purer faith; The man in pain,, a healing balm. And thou, too, weary heart, must wait. Must wait. For what? From out the clouds A heavenly voice makes answer thus: "It is the leisure of the Lord." O fainting heart ! Look up, rejoice ! Ye are not left alone to grieve. It is His leisure that ye wait. When He is ready He will come. And dash aside the grief and pain. 26 In Cloisters Dim. He wishes you to wait, O heart Tried long and sore distressed — look up. It is His leisure. So be strong, And He will cheer thy heart — But thou, too, weary heart, must wait. It will not be forever. God Is looking down in tender love; He knows the time when you can bear The sunlight shining through the clouds. And clouds will break when His time comes. All things are governed by His hands, And waiting will not last for aye. And at the end, the sunshine clear Will drive away the doubt and pain; Will shine upon thy dreary life. And God Himself shall cheer thy heart. But thou, too, weary heart, must wait €aliti, Sweet Tace. In Cloisters Dim. 31 The power of thy cahn face is greater than The word of priest or prayer of holy saints. With it before me, strong am I and great; Without thy face, my spirit droops and faints. And can God frown if thou lead on to Him The soul that sought for peace, and through thy face, Was lifted to a higher aim in life, And, led by thee, passed on from sin to grace? Can He condemn, if, loving thee, I seek To reach the pureness of the saints above: Though I not travel in the way He taught, But live pure life because I thee do love? ■32 In Cloisters Dim. calm, sweet face, thou art the power that moves My soul to emulate the saints above. 1 shun the evil, choose the good, because Thy face is good and thy pure face 1 love. So strong a power it hath unon me still In all the trials of this life below, It cannot fail to lead me onward, 'till In it I see the light of heaven glow. mv Crucifix. In Cloisters Dim. 37 I kneel and raise Thee to my lips, I kiss Thy wounded side; I kiss Thy hands, Thy feet, each wound Made for the great world wide. Naught else I kiss in this great world; My, heart is wrapt in Thee; But the pain within my wounded side None but my God can see. Cbe Hngelus. "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death. —The Angelus. In Cloisters Dim. 41 I. Pausing, kneeling in the morning, As the day begins; Pausing, praying at the noontide, Midst toil's noisy dins; Pausing, praying in the evening. Weary of our sins! 'Round the world the trembling prayer Is a never-ending cry. From the hearts of loving children. To the Virgin Queen on high. II. Hail, Mary, full of grace, The Lord is with thy soul ! 42 In Cloisters Dim. Bless'd above all women While eternity shall roll, Ave! Ave! Hail, Mary! hear thy child: Full of sin am 1; But with loving heart 1 turn Unto thee and cry Ave! Ave! Holy Mary, Mother of God! Near to Him we praise, Pray to Him for me, thy ch ild. In these evil days. Ave! Ave! In Cloisters Dirrt. 43 Novo, for I need thy help! Now, in this sinful life! Now, when the waves beat high! Now, in this weary strife! ■ Ave! Aief Pray for me now, O mother dear. In my earthly days. On me in thy pity look. In this dreary maze, Ave! Ave! And when death's deep waters roll Dark waves pver me, Still, sweet saint, 1 bid thee pray, Star of a stormy sea! Ave! Ave' 44 In Cloisters Dim. ]II. Thus we wreathe the day with "Aves," Singing to the Virgin pure; Lauding her whom God hath chosen Full of grace while time shall dure. Ave! Ave! De Cbain of Our $in$. "Though we b"^ tied and bound by the chain of our sins." In Cloisters Dim. 49 At first, like dainty daisy chains Which children weave in happy hours, It lays its fetters over us — A chain so light, so beautiful, Its bands a child might break. A few years, and the chain becomes A little stronger — yet of gold; 'Twould grace a lady's neck, its links A lady's hand could break. But years go by: the links have grown, The gold has changed to tempered steel. We lowly bend beneath the load, We fear to meet the gaze of men. Because they see the chain we bear. Respect for self and manhood gone, 50 In Cloisters Dim. Ideals which once were ours, to turn Into the fairest of the reals, Forever gone — we slink along. Too late with our own hands to rend The chains which bind us to our sin; Too late for friends to break the links And set us free. But one, the Christ, Now has the power to shatter them. Then loose our chains, Lord, Though we be tied and bound. Tt $cem$ $0 Tar to €limb to 60(1. In Cloisters Dim. 55 It seems so far to climb to God: I am so low, and He so high, The way back to His holiness; It seems so far; I shall not try. It seems so far to climb to God; So many sins to cast away. So much of purity to gain, I cannot reach Him if I may. It seems so far to climb to God; I am so weak and He so great, I never can reach up to Him; I'll linger still outside the gate. It seems so far to climb to God; And yet God knows, and so He says. 56 In Cloisters Dim. "But one step at a time," and gives Strength unto us as are our days. So, step by step, He leads us up — A sin cast back, a virtue won — Until at last we stand by Him, Led up and saved by His own Son. $eptuagc$iina. Lest I become a castaway." In Cloisters Dim. 61 This solemn Septuagesima, With force the lesson comes again, As with her warning voice the Church Calls to her courts all sorts of men, And bids them learn the way to God. I fast and weep, repent and pray, Lest having preached to others, I Should, hapless, prove a castaway. I voiced the call of Mother Church, To others preached the living word. I led the way for other men, I warned and others heard. And now, in fear and trembling sore, I kneel and weep and fast and pray; Lest having preached to others, 1 Should, hapless, prove a castaway. 62 In Cloisters Dim. Hear me, dear Lord, but this once more. Forgive my wandering steps, and lead Me back into Thy fold, and give Full strength Thy loving voice to heed. And may 1 keep my body down, My soul grow stronger day by day; Lest having preached to others, I Should, hapless, prove a castaway. Upon my knees I vow this day, With Thy dear grace, to break the bands Which bind me to the world and sin; The future leaving in Thy hands. But keep my body under. Lord: This day 1 humbly kneel and pray; Lest having preached to others, 1 Should, hapless, prove a castaway. JTsb iUednesday. "Remember, man, from dust thou art; to dust thou must return." In Cloisters Dim. 67 "Remember, man," the Holy Church in sol- emn cadence speaks, As, clothed in penitential garb, she bids us humbly learn By prayers, and tears, and fastings oft, the road to Calvary; "Remember, man, from dust thou art, to dust thou shalt return." The grave and death, the Mother Church bids us now contemplate, On this first day in which she calls us from the world apart, To tread with her the weary way again to Calvary, And watch beneath our dying Lord — gaze on his pierced heart. 68 In Cloisters Dim. "Remember, man," from out the world, with solemn steps, she leads Down deep into the Lenten vale; the cross in ashes traced Upon our brows, in token that to dust we must return; And yet, before Lent pass away, that thought must be effaced. For through the Lenten gloom there comes a thought of Easter day. Which even now is struggling through the darkness of the night. Our hearts are turned towards death that we may reach the dying Christ, And by the road to Calvary be led to Easter light. In Cloisters Dim. 73 There is no life in which there is No weeping Lent. Each year we find a new made grave Till life is spent. There is no life but has its pain, Each life its cross. There is no soul, however blessed, Sin may not toss. There is no life but has its pain, Each life its tomb; The light of weary hearts goes out, And leaves but gloom. In Lent I prayed for you this prayer— "May all thy loss 74 In Cloisters Dim. Lead thee but nearer to The stained Cross." Biit at the end of Lenten gloom Comes Easter morn; The Cross is bare, the grave unlocked, Sweet peace is born. In Cloisters Dim. 79 r^tbc Hvrie.'' Slowly in the chancel marching. Censers swinging, tapers gleaming, Come the white-robed altar servers, Followed by dalmaticked deacons, Followed by the priests in vestments. Lo! they pause before the Altar, Knees are bent before Christ's earthly Throne on which He waits for worship. Waits for man's true adoration. Waits to bless him, waits to give him Consolation, peace of Heaven. Softly from the lofty choir Down come stealing plaintive voices Pleading, "Mercy, Lord, have mercy, 80 In Cloisters Dim. Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy;" While the priest before the Altar Pleads in lowly tones forgiveness For the sins of priest and people; Throbbing hearts are also praying To the strains the choir is singing, With the words the priest is praying; "Lord, have mercy; Lord, have mercy; Loose us, let our sins flee from us!" Each heart for its own sin pleading. O'er the whole, the wild cry stealing Of the choir in tones of minor Singing in the old Greek language. With the words which now for ages In the Christian Church has opened Mass, the sacrifice of Jesus, Each heart beats with silent sadness, Tn the €att)cdral. In Cloisters Dim. And as dies the last faint cadence. And the echoes leave the arches. Silence falls upon the people. Silence for a single instant, Then the celebrant upraising Voice in joyful adoration, Sings the carol of the angels, Sings the songs of Saints and Martyrs, "Gloria in excelsis Deo." 82 In Cloisters Dim. r*«Cbc Gospel. v^ Near the credence there's a movement, Priests and servers, silent, grouping: Then the march across the chancel, Brilliant, solemn; sacred pageant, Led by thurifers in scarlet; ' Swinging censers filled with incense, Sending upwards clouds of perfume. Which, about the Altar circling, Catch the rays of sunlight falling From the richly colored windows High up in the chancel arches. Pause they at the northern corner Of the Altar, where the deacon Rev'rently intones the gospel; And the worshippers, all standing, Make the sign of faith upon them; In Cloisters Dim. On the lips, the breast, the forehead, As a solemn consecration Of their intellects for knowing, Of their lips for truly speaking, Of their hearts for true believing. Quietly the group disperses As the sacred words are ended. And the celebrant commences • "Credo," "1 believe" — the symbol Of the Christian faith for ages. In its circle is the substance Of the faith once taught by Jesus, 83 Which His Church has kept unchanged Since the apostles of Judea Heard it from their heavenly Teacher; And for ages it's been ringing, Daily ringing, without ceasing. In Cloisters Dim. Following 'round the earth the sunlight As it falls in early morning, Till the whole round world is girded With the "I believe" of Christians In the same words, in the language It was sung in Roman caverns By the infant Church's martyrs: I believe in God the Father, Jesus, Son of God, from whom came Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier. "Incarnatus est," the choir Sings in strains of tender sweetness, And the people, kneeling, worship God the Son, for us incarnate; While the singers, oft repeating, Dwell upon the theme so glorious, "Incarnatus, incarnatus. In Cloisters Dim ^ P5 Homo factus est,"' the singers Always chosen from the women; For as through her came man's sinning So the church has always granted That she sing the birth of Jesus — And her part in man's redemption. "I believe," again confessing Faith in Christ, and in His body, Holy Church, the creed continues, "Holy Catholic, Apostolic; In one washing for remission Of the sins of her own children; And a glorious resurrection And a life with God in heaven." In Cloisters Dim r^tbc Sanctus.v-% Quietly the priests and servers Gather at their proper stations, While the celebrant devoutly Reads the prayers of intercession Prefacing the Consecration, And, low bowing towards the Altar, Kneel the people, while the "Sanctus," Thrice sung glories to the Godhead, Fills the church with strains of sweetness Chastened to the sad occasion; Seraphim the song uplifting Bear it from the earthly Altar To the Altar in the heavens. Where the Son is ever pleading. As hosannas, oft repeated, Die away, and silence follows, In Cloisters Dim. 87 Low, with reverent voice, the Canon Of the Mass is whispered, while the • Mystic sign, the Christian emblem, Marks and marks again the wafer And the red wine in the Chalice. Silence, death-like silence, reigns now, For the death of God is symboled. And for us the Crucifixion, With its sadness— and its glories — Pleads for us as man could never Plead with God for our forgiveness. Silence reigns, and from the people, Kneeling lowly, whispering Aves, Comes no tremor, comes no rustle, To disturb the holy silence Brooding o'er the tomb of Jesus. In Cloisters Dim. Save half-stifled sobs of anguish Which the weary laden cannot Longer hold within their bosoms, As they see their Savior hanging On the cruel cross, derided; See Him for their own sins dying; Save the heart sobs of the weary, Not a sound disturbs the stillness. Monster organ pipes are silent, Singers kneel and ga,ie awe-stricken Towards the altar where the solemn Death scene of the great world's Savior, Sadly, solemnly is shown forth. Hush! the Savior is approaching; Hear His footsteps drawing nearer; Angels fill the cloudy chancel: In Cloisters Dim. 89 In the curling smoke of censers, Angels kneel and veil their faces, As the Son of man draws nigh them. Hark! a deep- toned bell resounding Breaks the awful, painful stillness. Christ is come: His throne, the Altar! On their knees both priest and people Prostrate low in adoration, Loud the great pipes of the organ Swell forth notes of joy triumphant. Hallelujahs fill the arches, And in one united chorus, Jesus Christ, the conquering Savior, On His earthly throne is greeted With the songs and adorations, With the praise of men and Angels, In hosannas oft repeated. 90 In Cloisters Dim. Softly then the music changes From triumphant into pleading And the Agnus Dei follows With its "dona nobis pacem," Plaintive cry of man to heaven For the peace God only giveth. Mass is ended, priests departed, And the church is left in silence. Near the Altar burns a red light. Token that the Holy Presence Still abides for peace and blessing. And around it angels, kneeling Guard their Lord's most sacred Body. Every Altar where the Host is, Doubly guarded is by Angels. (Uben (Ue l^eard Stabat mater. In Cloisters Dim 95 The great church, with its high-arched nave Its altars, and its sculptored saints. Was thronged with people on the night That we heard Stabat Mater. The sacred Host had been removed. And we, within the chancel rail. Beneath the shadow of a shrine, Awed into silence, sat that night. A soft prelude; and then the song Of that sad mother 'neath the cross Of her dear Son. who died for man. Came floating downward unto us; Like Mary's broken hearted cry. As tender woman's voice was heard; Now like the sobbing of the world, As full bass chorus filled the church. 96 In Cloisters Dim. Each word repeated in that hymn First sung long centuries ago, Until it beat into our hearts, And we could see that awful Cross, The mother kneeling at its foot. Around us, grouped in various shrines, Were ghostlike marble forms of saints, Which calmly looked upon the scene, As if content because they heard The weeping Mother's ancient hymn. As long as life may last, that scene. That throng of people, shrine and saints, The melodies, the choruses. Can never be forgotten quite. For happiest memories e'er will cling Around that night, so sad but dear. When we heard Stabat Mater, Cbe Uesper l)yiiin of tbe nuns. l.efC. In Cloisters Dim. 101 Just outside the convent portal, With a gUmpse of chapel dim, Where the black robed nuns were kneeling For their daily Vesper hymn, We two paused upon the threshold, Listening to the voices sweet; Pure ones to the Virgin singing Songs with purity replete. Yet without the convent, standing By my side, was one as pure As the sisters chanting sweetly Of the joys which saints allure. Sweet and pure as was the music Of the sisters' evening song; Purer, sweeter was the singing In her heart that knew no wrong. 102 In Cloisters Dim. And each day, I find most sacred Vesper song that e'er could be, In the beating of her pure heart — Sweetest of all songs to me! In Cloisters Dim. 107 By day and night the sentinel Treads to and fro the picket line To guard the bivouacked men. And at the slightest sound of steps, "Qui Vive?" the challenge sharply rings. Ah, well, if then the answer come, "A friend," and whispered countersign Is followed by, "A friend. Pass on." The heart behind its picket lines Oft hears its sentry's challenge ring, •'Qui Vive?" as strangers pass; and waits Half hoping, half in fear, that this May prove the looked-for, unknown one With countersign to pass the guards. And so we tremble, yet half hope To hear the cry, "A friend, pass on." H Dream of Solitude. In Cloisters Dim. 1 1 1 A dream of solitude! A great wide sea, With restless waves beneath a far-off sky! But sea and sky! No ship, no land, no voice. Not e'en a stormy petrel's plaintive cry. A dream of solitude! A city great! • I walk amid a crowd of men unknown. The world is full of voices, yet not one Doth call my name. A crowd! And yet alone! A dream of solitude! Where men clasp hands In seeming f riendship,yet with hearts unstirred , While the one hand I love is ne'er reached out To touch my own. The voice best loved ne'er heard. Cijl<)lH! i'.^!'> >i!ctu rcacc. Cbe Deposed Priest. In Cloisters Dim. 1 15 At close of day I wandered to this church, Whose crosses high tower upward towards the sky. Within is silent peace. On each side hang The prints which show to -faithful ones the marks Of Jesus' feet to Calvary. And here And there, beside a dusky column, stands An image, which, upon the walls, or o'er The pews, its deeper shadow casts. So dark Is it that angels in the stained glass Have disappeared beneath the great world's night. 'Tis evening darkness, when one loves to pray. And, far above, the long-ribbed arches bind The holy stillness in. Away beyond, The same still darkness holds the chancel deep. 1 16 In Cloisters Dim. A lonely place! And yet the red light clear Which hangs, star like, beneath the altar arch, Gives token of a Presence with which none Can lonely be. And I a priest, yet not A priest, "neath cover of the dusk slip in To gaze upon that gentle light, and kneel Before that altar at which, years ago, 1 stood with unbound priestly powers — God's priest, To elevate the Body of my Lord For men to kneel and venerate. The power Is with. me still, for I, deposed, am still A priest. But use it — that I may not now. And so, when all the church is dim at eve, I slip in at the open door to kneel In Cloisters Dim. 117 Where once I stood! The darkness deepens. None Will see me now. The dust upon the floor Is fitting token of my humbleness. The priest before his God! The priest de- posed! Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison! Will He hear? O Jesus! loose these bands which bind, And grant that, once before I die, some act As priest 1 be allowed to do. For driest. In Thy sight, know 1 that 1 am, tho" man And Church have laid their ban upon me. Hark! What sound is that? Another supplicant? The door was opened while I prayed, and one, A poor, decrepit beggar, has come in. In Cloisters Dim. He falls beside me, and he says, "Father, The priest is gone, and I am near to death. Oh, shrive me of my sin." The priest is gone, The man will soon be dead, and is his soul. All stained with sin, unfit to meet its God? Is not mine own? 1 must not think of that. Shall this soul pass away without the peace Which only Holy Church can give? No! No! "Here, rest thy head upon my arm and tell Thy grief, lonely man, for 1 am poor And lonely too. Yet I can help thee. Tell Me all that burdens thy poor heart, and I Will help thee." Prone upon the dusty floor. Beneath the clear red light, he lay, and told In Cloisters Dim. 1 19 His tale of sin and sorrow, and when done, I rose and gave him absolution, and He died. What was my prayer? To die a priest! I am a priest, and God has given me what I sought. "Christe eleison, eleison, Chris" When morning came two corpses lay within The chancel gate. The one, the beggar; and Beside him lay the priest — a priest deposed! But God had heard his prayer. De Cbree Uoice$. In Cloisters Dim. 123' "I will not die." A feeble voice comes forth — Scarce heard amid the rumbling of the wheels Of time — forth from a tenement of clay. Weak man protesting 'gainst the giant Death! "But thou shalt die," rolls in the mighty wave Of voices which like ours have cried for life; Of voices from the other world beyond, The deep cry of the past eternity. "The fate that comes to all must come to thee, And thou shalt die. * * * * All nature dies, and e'en The angels 'round God's throne may die — a death Not like to thine, the sev'ring of a soul 124 In Cloisters Dim. From earthly prison whence it flees with joy — But death eternal, sev'rance from their God, And thou, O man: thou, too, must die." "O death, I fear thee," comes again the voice Of feeble man, in trembling tones. And then A Voice is heard re-echoing down the years, Voice full of sweetness, like soft music on The evening air. "The resurrection and The life am I." O, death, where is thy sting? O , grave, where is thy vict'ry? Man shall live! In Cloisters Dim. 129 The plains of Canaan ne'er saw sun as mild Nor verdure green as when a Canaan mother clasped Her daughter, first born, to her heart and thanked The gods that so much earthly bliss washers. But as the days passed into weeks, the weeks To months, and months to years, the mother saw Her only child, her daughter well beloved. Was not like other children, but, as in Those early days of childlike faith and trust, They said was vexed by a devil sore. Long sorrowed this poor mother, till she heard That to the Jews, her neighbors, Christ had come. 130 In Cloisters Dim. Then said she to herself, "If he is God, I am his child as well as favored Jew, And unto Him I'll plead for my dear child." The Christ was coming to their coast. The news Was heralded through all the land, and she. Poor mother, wrapped up in her child, went forth To meet the Master and implore His help. She saw the crowd, the holy twelve, and One, Who humble and most meek appeared. Not like The God she dreamed of. But in her sore grief She called to Him.by that name known to all, In Cloisters Dim. 131 '0 Son of David, hear me, mercy give, " Grant me Thy help, although I am not one Of Thine own people, but I plead, if Thou Art God, Thou art the God of Caanan as Thou art of all the world. Have mercy, Lord." But that calm Man walked calmly on as if He heard her not. Again she cried, and then Those twelve plucked at His robe and said, "Dost see? This woman crieth after us; send her Away, if Thou canst not give her relief." For they knew not that he was come to all The world, as well as them. Then Jesus turned And said: "But to the lost sheep of the house 132 In Cloisters Dim. Of Israel am I sent." He paused, and she, In growing confidence, drew near and knelt Beside Him, and His garment raised unto Her lips. "Lord, help me!"' Were the only words Her lips could utter. But He answered her, "It is not meet to take the children's bread And cast it unto dogs." Harsh words were these To come from loving Son of God to one Whose heart was crushed with sorrow's heavy load. A dog! Because not of the chosen race. No hope is there from God for her. But she. With calm persistence of a mother's love, Still knelt and answered: In Cloisters Dim. 133 "Yea, Lord, true! Yet even dogs do eat the crumbs that fall From off their master's table," Not a word In self-defense. The mother's heart was rent With anguish for her suffering child. A crumb Was all she asked; a fragment of the food The God-Man had. The Perfect One looked down Upon the kneeling woman, and His heart Was touched by faith like this. "0 woman, great Thy faith is! be it as thou wilt." She rose. And with no shadow of a doubt, passed on Unto her home, and found her daughter healed In that same hour. 134 In Cloisters Dim. O, weary, sinning ones, Whose hearts are crushed by sorrows heavy load! If you could kneel in faith, and beg the crumbs From off the Master's table, much of sin And sorrow from your hearts would flee. .In Cloisters Dim. 139 With Lenten ashes on his brow The holy abbot Kenach passed Far out through forests deep and wild Up to the rocky mountain side, To fast and pray in solitude The forty days of Lent. A mother bird had built her nest Beside the cave in which he dwelt Upon the lonely mountain side. One night a fierce storm raged around. The abbot in his tender heart Bethought him of the fragile nest, The storm about the mother bird. "Look out, my son, into the night," Unto his novice spake the monk, "See how the little mother fares." 140 In Cloisters Dim. The novice looked and cried, "My lord, Lord abbot come! Lord abbot come!" They stood and gazed upon the storm Which hurled great trees against the rocks, And rocks rolled down the mountain side. But in the midst of dark and storm There shone a brilliant light; for there An angel stood with outstretched wings To shield the mother bird from harm. They stood and gazed till storm had passed, The angel faded into heaven. The stars appeared: the night was still. Next eve a woman with a child Toiled up the steep unto the cave, And seeing her the novice cried: "No woman may approach the place In Cloisters Dim. 141 Where holy abbot Kenach dwells And keeps the Lenten fast!" "Nay," said the woman, "we but seek Protection from the threatened storm." The novice, with uplifted hands. But answered harsh, "Away, begone!" "Did not the Lord Christ die for me? A man betrayed Him with a kiss; A woman stood beneath His cross. Twas man who smote Him with a reed; A woman wiped His blood stained face; And in the garden woman knelt In faith to kiss His feet. Twas man Who thrust his hand into His side. Shall not His heav'n be open to me? Yet you would drive me to my death." 142 In Cloisters Dim. Then Kenach came from out the cave And blessed the woman, led her in; Then, turning to the novice, spake: "The mother bird, an angel saved." Next morn, the mother and her child Rose and departed. When she reached The entrance of the cave, she turned: "My Son bids me," the mother said, "Thank you." Both looked up at the words. And fell upon their faces, for A heavenly glory shone around The mother and the child. And in The left hand of the Infant lay In Cloisters Dim. 143 A golden image of the world, And with His right He traced a cross, And blessed the monks and smiled. Cbe HngeU and m ChM. In Cloisters Dim. 147 Alone a little maiden dwelt, An orphan maid, within a hut Far out upon a lonely road, Away from other homes. And those Who passed along that way, at night, Gave strange reports of what they saw: Bright lights, too bright for human power, Shone out from crevices around The door and window, all night through. And so they called the maid a witch. The vicar was the last to hear; But when the tale came unto him. He asked the maid of what she did, Those long nights when the light was seen. "As soon as 'tis too dark to work, I fasten tight the door," she said, "And after supper cover up In Cloisters Dim. The fire upon the hearth, blow out The rushHght, and creep into bed." "And do you never say your prayers?" "I know not any proper prayer, But say a song my mother taught," The maid replied with downcast eyes. "God bless this house from thatch to floor, The twelve apostles guard the door, And four good angels watch my bed, Two at the feet and two at the head. Amen!" "There could not be a better prayer, Dear child," the vicar, smiling, said; "Repeat it every night, and God Will surely keep you from all harm." In Cloisters Dim. 149 That night the vicar softly stole From out the village to the house Upon the moor, where dwelt the maid, "A lonely place; she but a child!" He murmured as he walked along. But when he came anear the hut, A shock ran through his frame, for there A bright light streamed from half-closed blinds. And round the house he saw strange forms. He hastened on, but as he reached The gate before the little cot. He paused in awe, for he discerned That those about the house were men In ancient garb. One held a lance; Another leant upon a staff; A third, an ax uplifted bore; Beside a fourth a lion crouched; 150 In Cloisters Dim. An eagle rested near the fifth; And one, of tall majestic mien, Held two large keys within his hand. But as he ga^ed they disappeared. And naked sword, in unseen hand. Was stretched across his path. "Beware!" A solemn voice in warning spake; "It is the light of angels. Look, And blindness falls upon thee, as It did on me, when, ages gone, 1 traveled the Damascus road." ';Let me but look!" the vicar cried; "One glance at angels, then let night Forever dwell about mine eyes." The sword was lowered, and he passed Up to the shuttered window, where In Cloisters Dim. 151 He stooped and gazed. A rude bed. there; A sleeping child; a homely room; But at each corner of the bed An angel stood, with outstretched wings, To guard the sleeping maid from harm. Hn Old €radle=l)ynin. In Cloisters Dim. 155 "Now I lay me down to sleep," Sleepily the baby said. Nearer yet the blue eyes close — Lower sinks the curly head. "Now I lay me down to sleep." Angels hover in the air. No such sleep as that where God Keeps the soul within His care. ■ym^y f^-;