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Or any sense, the song which rang through

heaven

A sweeter song than that which celebrates

A sinner's penitence-when our two souls
Knelt down together in our Father's house,
To which his call had brought us, and received
His infinite sanction? Did He not require

And charge us both, as we would not be shamed

In our own day of judgment, to confess
If there were any just impediment

To keep our souls asunder? Did He not
Then join our hands, and call us only one?
O mother, you did hear it! for I saw,

When oft you looked at us, your eyes all filled
With tears which are the outward witnesses
Of the soul's recent sojourn, on its day

Of rest, among the glories of that world

In which our love is known, and looked upon

As something to assure us, when we come

To enter it more fully, of a right

D

To stand far nearer to the central Throne

Than many whom this world has glorified
With sainted names and crowns of martyrdom.

You heard that song, and therefore you will hear
With less misgiving than would all beside,

That in the strength of this our inward troth

We have discarded all external form,

Which may be useful for the world that is,

But which to us, who grasp the world to come,
Were but a mockery and base denial

Of what we know, and what we have confessed

To be the sole foundation of our love.

This, then, explains our secrecy. I fain
Had told you of our marriage ere it came
To be a thing not spoken of, but done;
But feared lest in that strained perplexity
Which just as often comes before an act
As after action it is smoothed away,

Some pain which was not needed might be brought

To you, to Gertrude, most of all to him

Whom I must guard from self-accusing thoughts
By strong persistence; which persistence might
Have seemed to you undutiful, while yet

I had not proved, by adding deed to thought,
My faith which now will strengthen you to bear
Attacks of doubt, or whispers from the world.
Not that I fear the latter; for your sake
We have proclaimed our marriage openly
As if it were but one among the crowd
Of so-called marriages, which are, in truth,
Mere mockeries of the ordinance of God;
Mere mockeries, in that so constantly
They serve to cover greed of rank by men

Or wealth by women,-wealth for which they sell Their souls and bodies, doubling the disgrace That follows women whom the world agrees

To hold condemned. This, mother, have we done Against my first intention; yet the thought

That you thereby may certainly be saved

Some pain for me, who rather, as you know,
For you would suffer torments, makes me less
Opposed to what would else appear an act
Of faithlessness, that could not fail to bring
An overwhelming vengeance.

I am not

In mood to write much further; we shall go,
Sped by your blessing, mother, to the south
Of Europe, (where, I know not yet,) and thence
Onward to Rome; but you shall hear in time.
I feel your blessing round me; if your doubt
At times should lead you faintly to despond,
Read then this letter,-think what I have been,—
Your own loved daughter, pure in God's own sight,
And seeking still to purify myself

By that communion which the soul alone

That much has tried it, estimates aright.

Kiss Gertrude for me, mother, -tell her all;

I know that she will trust her Eucharis.

37

LETTER V.

EUCHARIS TO GERTRUDE.

San Remo Oct. 2, 18-2.

:

SHAME, say you, sister, shame? O would that I
Felt half the shame for what you glory in
As you for my transgression! Yet not this
Shall now possess me; I would fain be kind
Even to you, who, most unwittingly,

(For are you not my sister?) have been doomed
To wound me deeper than all blame could wound
From other lips. 'Tis not the name you give
To my adventure,—let me call it so,—

For I was well forewarned that all the world
Would thus regard it wrongly,-no, not this;
But these imputed motives !-Tell me now
What in the old times have you seen in me,-

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