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PATHETIC.

228. Pathos requires concrete tones (§ 87) and semitonic melody (§ 89), effusive, sustained force (§ 109), a frequent use of tremulous stress (§ 105), and pure (§ 131) or orotund (§ 135) quality.

113. THE LEPER.-N. P. Willis.

"Room for the leper! Room!" And as he came
The cry passed on,-"Room for the leper! Room!"
* * * And aside they stood,
Matron, and child, and pitiless manhood — all
Who met him on his way,- and let him pass.
And onward through the open gate he came,
A leper with the ashes on his brow,
Sackcloth about his loins, and on his lip
A covering, stepping painfully and slow,
And with a difficult utterance, like one
Whose heart is with an iron nerve put down,
Crying, "Unclean! - Unclean!

* * * Day was breaking

When at the altar of the temple stood

The holy priest of God. The incense-lamp
Burned with a struggling light, and a low chant
Swelled through the hollow arches of the roof
Like an articulate wail, and there, alone,
Wasted to ghastly thinness, Helon knelt.

The echoes of the melancholy strain

Died in the distant aisles, and he rose up,

Struggling with weakness, and bowed down his head

Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put off

His costly raiment for the leper's garb,

And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip

Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still
Waiting to hear his doom:

"Depart! depart, O child

Of Israel, from the temple of thy God,
For he has smote thee with his chastening rod,

And to the desert wild,

From all thou lov'st, away thy feet must flee,
That from thy plague his people may be free.

"Depart! and come not near

The busy mart, the crowded city, more,
Nor set thy foot a human threshold o'er;
And stay thou not to hear

Voices that call thee in the way, and fly
From all who in the wilderness pass by.

"Wet not thy burning lip

In streams that to a human dwelling glide,
Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide,
Nor kneel thee down to dip

The water where the pilgrim bends to drink,
By desert well, or river's grassy brink.

"And pass not thou between

The weary traveler and the cooling breeze,
And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees
Where human tracks are seen;

Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain,
Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain.

"And now depart! and when

Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim,
Lift up thy prayer beseechingly to him
Who from the tribes of men

Selected thee to feel his chastening rod.
Depart, O leper! and forget not God!"

And he went forth,-alone! not one of all
The
many whom he loved, nor she whose name
Was woven in the fibers of the heart
Breaking within him now, to come and speak
Comfort unto him. Yea, he went his way,
Sick and heart-broken, and alone,- to die!
For God had cursed the leper!

It was noon,

And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool
In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow,
Hot with the burning leprosy, and touched

The loathsome water to his fevered lips,
Praying that he might be so blest,― to die!
Footsteps approached, and with no strength to flee,
He drew the covering closer on his lip,

Crying, "Unclean! Unclean!" and in the folds
Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face,
He fell upon the earth till they should pass.
Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er

66

The leper's prostrate form pronounced his name.
'Helon!"- the voice was like the master-tone
Of a rich instrument,- most strangely sweet;
And the dull pulses of disease awoke,
And for a moment beat beneath the hot
And leprous scales with a restoring thrill.
"Helon! arise!" and he forgot his curse,
And rose and stood before him.

Love and awe

Mingled in the regard of Helon's eye
As he beheld the stranger. He was not
In costly raiment clad, nor on his brow
The symbol of a princely lineage wore;
No followers at his back, nor in his hand
Buckler, or sword, or spear,- yet in his mien
Command sat throned serene, and if he smiled,
A kingly condescension graced his lips
The lion would have crouched to in his lair.
His garb was simple, and his sandals worn;
His stature modeled with a perfect grace;
His countenance, the impress of a God,
Touched with the open innocence of a child;
His eye was blue and calm, as is the sky
In the serenest noon; his hair unshorn
Fell to his shoulders, and his curling beard
The fullness of perfected manhood bore.
He looked on Helon earnestly awhile,

As if his heart was moved, and, stooping down,
He took a little water in his hand

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And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!' And lo! the scales fell from him, and his blood Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins,

And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow
The dewy softness of an infant's stole.

His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down
Prostrate at Jesus' feet, and worshiped him

114. THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS.-Thomas Hood.

One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,

Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!

Take her up tenderly,
Lift her with care,
Fashioned so slenderly,
Young, and so fair!

Look at her garments
Clinging like cerements,

Whilst the wave constantly

Drips from her clothing;
Take her up instantly,
Loving, not loathing!

Touch her not scornfully!
Think of her mournfully,
Gently and humanly,—
Not of the stains of her;
All that remains of her
Now is pure womanly.

Make no deep scrutiny
Into her mutiny,
Rash and undutiful;

Past all dishonor,

Death has left on her

Only the beautiful

Still, for all slips of hers,

One of Eve's family,

Wipe those poor lips of hers,
Oozing so clammily..

Loop up her tresses
Escaped from the comb,-
Her fair auburn tresses,-
Whilst wonderment guesses
Where was her home?

Who was her father?

Who was her mother?

Had she a sister?

Had she a brother?

Or was there a dearer one

Still, and a nearer one

Yet, than all other?

Alas! for the rarity
Of Christian charity
Under the sun!

Oh, it was pitiful!
Near a whole city full,
Home she had none.

Sisterly, brotherly,
Fatherly, motherly
Feelings had changed,-

Love, by harsh evidence,
Thrown from its eminence;
Even God's providence
Seeming estranged.

Where the lamps quiver

So far in the river,

With many a light

From window and casement,

From garret to basement,

She stood with amazement,

Houseless by night.

The bleak wind of March

Made her tremble and shiver;

But not the dark arch,

Or the black flowing river;

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