But in front of the choir, round the altar-piece painted by Hörberg, 35

Crept a garland gigantic; and bright-curling tresses of angels

Peeped, like the sun from a cloud, out of the shadowy leaf-work.

Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling;

And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets,

Loud rang the bells already; the thronging crowd was assembled

Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching.

Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones from the organ.

Hover, like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits.

Like as Elias in heaven, when he cast off from him his mantle,

Even so cast off the soul its garments of earth; and with one voice

Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal

Of the sublime Wallín, of David's harp in the Northland,

Tuned to the choral of Luther; the song on its powerful pinions

Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven,

"

And every face did shine like the Holy One's face

upon Tabor.

Lo! there entered then into the church the Reverend Teacher.

Father he hight and he was in the parish; a Christianly plainness

Clothed from his head to his feet the old man of seventy winters.

Friendly was he to behold, and glad as the heralding angel

Walked he among the crowds; but still a contemplative grandeur

Lay on his forehead, as clear as on moss-covered gravestone a sunbeam.

As in his inspiration (an evening twilight that faintly

Gleams in the human soul, even now from the day of creation)

Th' artist, the friend of Heaven, imagines St. John when in Patmos,

Gray, with his eyes uplifted to Heaven, so seemed then the old man :

Such was the glance of his eye, and such were his tresses of silver.

All the congregation arose in the pews that were numbered;

But with a cordial look, to the right and the left hand, the old man,

Nodding all hail and peace, disappeared in the innermost chancel.

Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian service,

Singing and prayer, and at last an ardent discourse from the old man:

Many a moving word and warning, that out of the heart came,

Fell like the dew of the morning, like manna on those in the desert.

Afterwards, when all was finished, the Teacher reentered the chancel,

Followed therein by the young. On the right hand the boys had their places,

Delicate figures, with close-curling hair and cheeks rosy-blooming.

But on the left hand of these, there stood the tremulous lilies,

Tinged with the blushing light of the morning, the diffident maidens

Folding their hands in prayer, and their eyes cast down on the pavement.

Now came, with question and answer, the catechism. In the beginning

Answered the children with troubled and faltering voice, but the old man's

Glances of kindness encouraged them soon, and the doctrines eternal

Flowed, like the waters of fountains, so clear from lips unpolluted.

Whene'er the answer was closed, and as oft as they named the Redeemer,

Lowly louted the boys, and lowly the maidens all courtesied.

Friendly the Teacher stood, like an angel of light there among them.

And to the children explained he the Holy, the Highest, in few words;

Thorough, yet simple and clear-for sublimity always is simple

Both in sermon and song, a child can seize on its meaning.

Even as the green-growing bud is unfolded when Spring-tide approaches,

Leaf by leaf is developed, and, warmed by the radiant sunshine,

Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the perfected blossom

Opens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its crown in the breezes,

So was unfolded here the Christian lore of Salvation, Line by line from the soul of childhood. The fathers and mothers

Stood behind them in tears, and were glad at each well-worded answer.

Now went the old man up to the altar; and straightway transfigured

(So did it seem unto me) was then the affectionate Teacher.

Like the Lord's prophet sublime, and awful as Death and as Judgment,

Stood he, the God-commissioned, the soul-searcher, earthward descending.

Glances, sharp as a sword, into hearts that to him were transparent,

Shot he; his voice was deep, was low, like the thunder afar off.

So on a sudden transfigured he stood there, he spake and he questioned.

"This is the faith of the Fathers, the faith the Apostles delivered,

This is, moreover, the faith whereunto I baptized you, while still ye

Lay on your mothers' breasts, and nearer the portals of heaven.

Slumbering received you then the Holy Church in its bosom;

Wakened from sleep are ye now, and the light in its radiant splendour

Rains from the heaven downward; to-day on the threshold of childhood

Kindly she frees you again, to examine and make your election,

For she knows nought of compulsion, and only conviction desireth.

This is the hour of your trial, the turning-point of existence,

Seed for the coming days; without revocation departeth

Now from your lips the confession: bethink ye, before ye make answer!

Think not, O think not with guile to deceive the questioning Teacher.

Sharp is his eye to-day, and a curse ever rests upon falsehood.

Enter not with a lie on Life's journey; the multitude hears you,

Brothers and sisters and parents, what dear upon earth is and holy,

Standeth before your sight as a witness; the Judge everlasting

Looks from the sun down upon you, and angels in waiting beside him

Grave your confession in letters of fire upon tablets eternal.

Thus then-Believe ye in God, in the Father who this world created?

Him who redeemed it, the Son? and the Spirit, where both are united?

Will ye promise me here (a holy promise!) to cherish

God more than all things earthly, and every man as a brother?

Will ye promise me here to confirm your faith by your living,

Th' heavenly faith of affection! to hope, to forgive, and to suffer,

Be what it may your condition, and walk before God in uprightness?

Will ye promise me this before God and man?" With a clear voice

Answered the young men, Yes! and Yes! With lips softly-breathing

Answered the maidens eke. Then dissolved from the brow of the Teacher

Clouds with the thunders therein, and he spake on in accents more gentle,

Soft as the evening's breath, as harps by Babylon's rivers.

"Hail, then, hail to you all! To the heirdom of heaven be ye welcome!

Children no more from this day, but by covenant brothers and sisters!