Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 6.djvu/196

 174 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

audience rose to go out ; but suddenly their hands and filled the church with

it began again, and all stopped and their "Bravos !"

listened. It was an improvisation, a Capellani trembled with emotionary

triumphal chant, a grand alleluia, in pride and enthusiasm ; but the face

which it seemed as if all the choirs of the marquise clouded slightly, and

of heaven took part. Enthusiasm taking Marcel's arm she drew him

overcame this Italian audience, who quickly out of the church, no longer prayed, and they clapped [to be continued.]

��WILL HIS ROBES BE PURPLE?

��BY HENRIETTA E. PAGE.

Two world-weary spirits were winging their flight

To God's glorious haven of rest; Unto one life had been •■ 11 shadow and night.

To the other had fallen life's choicest and best.

'T was soft hush of midnight as upward they flew,

And the misty clouds shone silver-lined; The man gained in courage the nearer they drew,

But the woman was sad. and fell shyly behind.

As they went they conversed : '' Pray how shall we know Which is Jesus, the Christ?" the man said;

" Will his robes be purple, bis linen like snow? Will he wear a blight jeweled crown on bis head?"'

The woman looked up with a smile on her face, And with blight, beaming joy in her eyes;

" 1 '11 know my dear Lord by his beauty and grace. By his meekness and love, which for us never dies."

The haven was reached, and the portals flew wide;

With assurance the rich man stepped in. Nor noticed the Porter who stood by his side,

With water and blessing to cleanse him of sin.

"I seek the Lord Jesus." he loudlj' did cry — " Lead me straight to the foot of the Throne : "

The woman fell meekly and low with a sigh, With the Porter's kind hand closely clasping her own.

Still lower she sank, and embraced the dear feet,

With tlie print of the cruel " nails" still. "My Saviour." she murmured, "I've longed thee to meet,

And I always have gloried to do thy sweet will."

" Rise, sister," he cried, " by thy faith thou art sure

Of a place at my Father's right hand; Though thy life hath been dark and hard to endure.

Thou hast faithfully filled every trying command.'*

The rich man, ashamed, turned again to the door,

And now lowly he bended his knee: t; Thy pardon, dear Lord, but thy robes were so poor,

I am surely excused, for no one could blame me."

" I blame thee not. brother, the glitter and dross

Of the life which till now was thine own, Hath cast into shadow the Light of the Cross,

Which the brighter for thia trembling woman has shone/

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