Toward the great sea for many days; A rugged shore of broken cliffs, And barren wave-washed sand, A weary way walked Marien A weary, solitary way; And as the day declined Over the dark and troubled sea Arose a stormy wind. The heavy waves came roaring in With the strong coming tide; The rain poured down, aud deep dark night Closed in on every side. There stood the homeless Marien With bare, unsandaled feet; Clasping her hands, she stood forlorn, Of a poor fisher good, Whose loving wife but yesternight Since that day's noon, alone had been At noon he kissed his little ones, And would be back, he said, Long ere night closed; but with the night It was an old and crazy boat, "Oh sorrow, sorrow!" groaned he forth, Now all this while the children small Kept in their dreary place, Troubled and sad, and half afear'd Of their dead mother's face. And when, to while the time, they played They found they had not hearts for mirth, But when, hour after hour went on, It would have touched a heart of stone So young and so forlorn; - their words And now they shouted through the storm; As they had seen their mother do, A fire of wood they lit, And steer his boat by it. Unto this light came Marien; And ere her weary feet Had reached the floor, the children ran And give him welcome sweet. Had run his mortal race; PART IX. WOE's me, what secret tears are shed, And yet man takes no heed! He goeth on his daily course, Made fat with oil and wine, That in his bondage pine; And pitieth not the children small, That all day long, lean, pale, and faint, To him they are but as the stones It entereth not his thoughts that they It entereth not his thoughts that God Is precious as his own. This moves him not. But let us now Where sat his weeping little ones It was a solitary waste Of barren sand, which bore Yet to the scattered dwellers there They would take Christian thought. So in the churchyard by the sea. The senseless dead was laid: "And now what will become of us!" The weeping children said. "For who will give us bread to eat? The neighbours are so poor! And he, our kinsman in the town, Would drive us from his door. "For he is rich and pitiless, With heart as cold as stone! "Weep not," said faithful Marien, "And I with you will still abide Your friendless souls to cheer, Be father and mother both to you; For this God sent me here. I will convey you: God can change “And ye, like angels of sweet love, They took their little worldly store; Leaving the lonesome sea-side shed, 'Mong sandy hills their way they wound; And thus for twice seven days they went A little loving band, Walking along their weary way; A place of ships, whose name was known A busy place of trade, where nought Thither they came, those children poor, And where dwelt he, their kinsman rich, After long asking, one they found, Unto the kinsman's door. But ever as he went along “Their kinsman!-well-a-way!" All through a labyrinth of walls Blackened with cloudy smoke, And beneath lofty windows dim Down to the courts below. Still on the children, terrified, With wildered spirits passed; There sate the kinsman, shrunk and lean, The moment that they entered in, That sudden thieves were near. "Rich man!" said Marien, "ope thy bags And of thy gold be free, Make gladsome cheer, for Heaven hath sent A blessing unto thee!" "What!" said the miser, "is there news Of my lost argosy ?" "Better than gold, or merchant-ships, Is that which thou shalt win," Said Marien, "thine immortal soul From its black load of sin." "Look at these children, thine own blood," To love them more than gold; - To thee, a thousand-fold!" "Ah," said the miser, "even these Some gainful work may do, My looms stand still; of youthful hands I shall have profit in their toil; Yes, child, thy words are true!" "Thou fool!" said Marien, "still for gain, To cast thy soul away! The Lord be judge 'twixt these and thee Upon his reckoning day! "These little ones are fatherless,He sees them day and night; And as thou doest unto them, On thee he will requite!" "Gave I not alms upon a time?" Said he, with anger thrilled; "And when I die, give I not gold, A stately church to build? "What wouldst thou more? my flesh and blood I seek not to gainsay. But what I give, is it unmeet So saying, in an iron chest, He locked his bags of gold, And bade the children follow him, PART X. Oн leave us not sweet Marien!" Our wretched hearts will break." She left them not - kind Marien! Day after day, week after week, They laboured at the loom. The while they thought with longing souls Passed through each little hand. The while they thought with aching hearts, The growing web was watered, And the sweet memory of the past, — The sandy shells; the sea-mew's scream; Wo-worth those children, hard bested, A weary life they knew; Their hands were thin; their cheeks were pale That were of rosy hue. The miser kinsman in and out Passed ever and anon; Nor ever did he speak a word, Wo-worth those children, hard bested, A soothing word to say: - The long months wore away. The long, the weary months passed on, Increased the hoard of gold; ""Tis well!" said he, "let more be spun That more may yet be sold!" So passed the time; and with the toil But ere a year was come and gone, The spirit of the boy Was changed; with natures fierce and rudo The hardness of the kinsman's soul Wrought on him like a spell, Exciting in his outraged heart, Revenge and hatred fell; The will impatient to control; Hence was there warfare 'twixt the two, A hopeless, miserable strife That could not last for long : The tender trouble of his eye, No more he kissed his sister's cheek; But they, the solitary pair, Like pitying angels poured Tears for the sinner; and with groans His evil life deplored. Man knew not of that secret grief, Which in their bosoms lay; And for the sinful brother's sin, Yet harder doom had they. But God, who trieth hearts; who knows Of mortal good and ill; He saw those poor despised ones, Yet bade him not return. In his good time that weak one's woe, Would seek the father's face ; Meantime man's judgment censured them, As abject, mean, and base. The erring brother was away, And none could tell his fate; She mourned not for her parents dead, And now the weary, jangling loom Like one that worketh in a dream, Which on her spirit lay; And as she worked, and as she grieved And they who saw her come and go, " Alas, that labour is the doom Alone the kinsman pitied not; He chid her, that no more The frame was strong, the hand was swift, As it had been before. - All for the child was dark on earth, When holy angels bright Unbarred the golden gates of heaven For her one winter's night. Within a chamber poor and low, Upon a pallet bed, She lay, and "hold my hand, sweet friend," * Oh hold my hand, sweet Marien," ""Tis darksome all-Oh, drearly dark' Down by her side knelt Marien, She told of Lazarus, how he lay, Beside the rich man's door. "I go!-yet still, dear Marien, One last boon let me win!Seek out the poor lost prodigal, And bring him back from sin! "I go! I go!" and angels bright, -And now, upon that selfsame night, Lay the rich kinsman wrapped in lawn, Scheming deep schemes of gold, he lay Just then an awful form spake low, “ Thou fool, this very night, thy soul And when into that chamber fair A lifeless corpse, upon his bed, Within a tomb, which he had built, Of costly marble-stone, They buried him, and plates of brass His name and wealth made known. A coffin of the meanest wood, The little child received; And o'er her humble, nameless grave, No hooded mourner grieved. Only kind Marien wept such tears, As the dear Saviour shed, When in the house of Bethany He mourned for Lazarus dead. PART XI. Now from the miser kinsman's house Dwelt Marien; and each day, For many an abject dweller there, Grief-bowed and labour-spent, Groaned forth, amid his little ones, To heaven his sad lament; And unto such, to raise, to cheer, The sent of God, she went. But she who, even as they, was poor, And warmed, and clothed, and fed. And nigh to death she lay, Kind hearts there were who came to her, And afterwards, when evil men Oh, blessed Christian hearts, who thus Did deeds of love; for as to Christ These righteous works were done! Thus dwelt sweet Marien in the town She found him not; but yet she found Had gone astray and pined forlorn To these repentant, outcast ones, She spake kind words of grace, And led them back, with yearning hearts, To seek the Father's face; To find forgiveness in His heart, And love in His embrace. Oh blessed, blessèd Marien! - But let us now recall Whate'er had happed of change and woe Unto the prodigal. He saw his little sister pine; He saw her silent woe; He saw her strength decline, yet still As this he saw, yet more and more He bare an altered mind; - But so it is! and when the twain In suffering, 'gainst the tempter's might He was their easy prey; their tool; Yet often to his soul came back Sweet memory of the time, He thought of slighted Marien, The faithful and the weak! He heard his loving parent's voice Yet, for the hated kinsman's sake, |