CLIII

Love his sole escort, yearning his sole guide,
And but one stage his journey, he at last —
For long now seemed the pilgrimage, — descried
The shimmering Eden of his exiled Past.
There, the dell zigzagged up the soft hillside.
There, tripped the streainlet, frolicsome and fast.
There, stood the little chapel, and lo ! there,
Olympia's casement, open to the air.
120 THE HUMAN TRAGEDY act

CLIV

But as unto the spot he drew more nigh,
And hastened onward with remembering feet,
He saw with sinking heart and saddening eye
Madonna's chapel closed, that used to greet.
With open door, sunshine, and sea, and sky.
So on its silent step he took his seat,
As on that woful night, and gazing dumb
On the blue breakers, wondered would she come.
CLV

And ever and anon he cast a glance
Up at her casement, where was wont to stand
A pot of flowers. Now, — was it only chance ? —
No flowers were there. At length, from off the sand
He saw a bent and withered dame advance
Slow toward the shrine, her spindle in her hand.
Singing, to mind her of the days gone by,
A sweet love-ditty, low and plaintively.
CLVI

As leisurely she came, he leisured rose,

And, gazing at her well-remembered face,

Said, " Can you tell me why these doors now close.
And where is she, the guardian of this place ? "

"She? she is gone; and whither, no one knows.
Spiaggiascura sees no more her face.
Her feet no more ! And I have heard them say,

'Twas one like you that drove our dear away.
THE HUMAN TRAGEDY



CLVII



" Sister of Charity they call her now.
