Give it, my child, thy Heart to me,
And it shall rest in mine!"

In awe she listened, and the shade
Passed from her soul away;

In low and trembling voice she cried—
"Lord, help me to obey!

Break Thou the chains of earth, oh Lord,
That bind and hold my heart;
Let it be Thine, and Thine alone,
Let none with Thee have part.

"Send down, oh Lord, Thy sacred fire!

Consume and cleanse the sin

That lingers still within its depths;

Let heavenly love begin.

That sacred flame Thy Saints have known,

Kindle, oh Lord, in me,

Thou above all the rest for ever,

And all the rest in Thee."

The blessing fell upon her soul;

Her angel by her side

Knew that the hour of peace was come,

Her soul was purified:

The shadows fell from roof and arch,

Dim was the incensed air

But Peace went with her as she left

The sacred Presence there!

The Inn stood, low and white;

Green shady trees behind it, And an orchard on the right; Where over the green paling

The red-cheeked apples hung,

As if to watch how wearily

The sign-board creaked and swung.

The heavy-laden branches

Over the road hung low,

Reflecting fruit or blossom

In the wayside well below; Where children, drawing water, Looked up and paused to see, Amid the apple branches,

A purple Judas Tree.

The road stretched winding onward
For many a weary mile-
So dusty footsore wanderers
Would pause and rest awhile;

And panting horses halted,
And travellers loved to tell
The quiet of the wayside inn,
The orchard, and the well.

Here Maurice dwelt; and often
The sunburnt boy would stand

Gazing upon the distance,

And shading with his hand. His eyes, while watching vainly For travellers, who might need

His aid to loose the bridle,

And tend the weary steed.

And once (the boy remembered
That morning many a day-
The dew lay on the hawthorn,
The bird sang on the spray)
A train of horsemen, nobler
Than he had seen before,
Up from the distance gallopped,
And paused before the door.

Upon a milk-white pony,
Fit for a faery queen,

Was the loveliest little damsel

His eyes had ever seen; A servant-man was holding

The leading rein, to guide

Her sunny ringlets round her
A golden cloud had made,
While her large hat was keeping
Her calm blue eyes in shade;
One hand held firm the silken reins

To keep her steed in check,

The other pulled his tangled mane,
Or stroked his glossy neck.

And as the boy brought water,
And loosed the rein, he heard
The sweetest voice that thanked him

In one low gentle word;

She turned her blue eyes

from him,

Looked up, and smiled to see

The hanging purple blossoms
Upon the Judas Tree.

And showed it with a gesture,
Half pleading, half command,
Till he broke the fairest blossom,
And laid it in her hand;

And she tied it to her saddle

With a ribbon from her hair,

While her happy laugh rang gaily,

Like silver on the air.

But the champing steeds were rested— The horsemen now spurred on,

I