Classic Poem

Look at yon silent dwelling now!
A heavenly sight is there,
Where Cyra in her Chamber kneels
Before the Cross in prayer.

She is not loath to leave the world;
For she hath been taught with joy
To think that prayer and praise thenceforth
Will be her life's employ.

And thus her mind hath she inclined,
Her pleasure being still
(An only child, and motherless)
To do her Father's will.

The moonlight falls upon her face,
Upraised in fervor meek,
While peaceful tears of piety
Are stealing down her cheek.

That duty done, the harmless maid
Disposed herself to rest;
No sin, no sorrow in her soul,
No trouble in her breast.

But when upon the pillow then,
Composed, she laid her head,
She little thought what unseen Powers,
Kept watch beside her bed.

A double ward had she that night,
When evil near her drew;
Her own Good Angel guarding her,
And Eleimon's too.

Their charge it was to keep her safe
From all unholy things;
And o'er her, while she slept, they spread
The shadow of their wings.

So when an Evil Dream drew nigh,
They barr'd him from access,
Nor suffer'd him to reach her with
A breath of sinfulness.

But with his instigations they
A hallowing influence blent,
And made his fiendish ministry
Subserve to their intent.

Thus, while in troubled sleep she lay,
Strange impulses were given,
Emotions earthly and of earth,
With heavenly ones of Heaven.

And now the nightingale hath ceased
Her strain, who all night long
Hath in the garden rosier trill'd
A rich and rapturous song.

The storks on roof, and dome, and tower,
Forbear their clattering din,
As now the motions and the sounds
Of daily life begin.

Then, as from dreams that seem'd no dreams,
The wondering Maid awoke,
A low, sweet voice was in her ear,
Such as we might expect to hear
If some Good Angel spoke.

According with her dreams, it said,
" So, Cyra, must it be;
The duties of a wedded life
Hath Heaven ordain'd for thee. "

This was no dream full well she knew;
For open-eyed she lay,
Conscious of thought and wakefulness,
And in the light of day;
And twice it spake, if doubt had been,
To do all doubt away.

Alas! but how shall she make known
This late and sudden change?
Or how obtain belief for what
Even to herself is strange?

How will her Father brook a turn
That must to all seem shame?
How bear to think that vulgar tongues
Are busy with her name? —

That she should for a voice — a dream —
Expose herself to be the theme
Of wonder and of scorn; —
Public as her intent had been,
And this the appointed morn!

The Nuns even now are all alert;
The altar hath been dress'd,
The scissors that should clip her hair
Provided, and the black hood there,
And there the sable vest.

And there the Priests are robing now;
The Singers in their station;
Hark! in the city she can hear
The stir of expectation!

Through every gate the people pour,
And guests on roof, and porch, and tower,
Expectant take their place;
The streets are swarming, and the church
Already fills apace.

Speak, then, she must: her heart she felt
This night had changed its choice;
Nor dared the Maiden disobey, —
Nor did she wish to (sooth to say,) —
That sweet and welcome voice.

Her Father comes: she studies not
For gloss, or for pretence;
The plain, straight course will Cyra take
(Which none without remorse forsake)
Of truth and innocence.

" O Father, hear me patiently! "
The blushing Maiden said;
" I tremble, Father, while I speak,
But surely not for dread; —

" If all my wishes have till now
Found favor in thy sight,
And ever to perform thy will
Hath been my best delight,
Why should I fear to tell thee now
The visions of this night?

" I stood in a dream at the altar, —
But it was as an earthly Bride;
And Eleimon, thy freedman,
Was the Bridegroom at my side.

" Thou, Father, gavest me to him,
With thy free and full consent;
And — why should I dissemble it? —
Methought I was content.

Months then and years were crowded
In the course of that busy night;
I clasp'd a baby to my breast,
And, oh! with what delight!

" Yea, I was fruitful as a vine;
Our Heavenly Parent me and mine
In all things seem'd to bless;
Our ways were ways of peace, our paths
Were paths of pleasantness.

" When I taught lisping lips to pray,
The joy it was to me,
O Father, thus to train these plants
For immortality!

" I saw their little winning ways
Their grandsire's love engage;
Methought they were the pride, the joy,
The crown of his old age.

" When from the Vision I awoke,
A voice was in my ear, —
A waking voice, — I heard it twice;
No human tongue was near; —

" No human utterance so could reach
The secret soul, no human speech
So make the soul rejoice;
In hearing it I felt and knew
It was an Angel's voice!

" And thus, in words distinct, it said: —
" So, Cyra, must it be!
The duties of a wedded life
Hath Heaven ordain'd for thee." "

Her cheek was like the new-blown rose,
While thus she told her tale;
Proterius listened earnestly,
And as he heard grew pale; —

For he, too, in the dreams of night,
At the altar had seem'd to stand,
And to Eleimon, his freedman,
Had given his daughter's hand.

Their offspring, courting his caress,
About his knees had throng'd;
A lovely progeny, in whom,
When he was in the silent tomb,
His line should be prolong'd.

And he had heard a waking voice,
Which said it so must be,
Pronouncing upon Cyra's name
A holiest eulogy: —

" Her shall her husband praise, and her
Her children bless'd shall call;
Many daughters have done virtuously,
But thine excelleth them all! "

No marvel if his heart were moved,
The dream he saw was one;
He kiss'd his trembling child, and said,
" The will of Heaven be done! "

Little did child or sire in this
The work of sorcery fear;
As little did Eleimon think
That the hand of Heaven was here.