University of Virginia Library

CATHEDRAL.
SERVICE.—ORGAN AND ANTHEM.
Margaret among a number of people.—Evil Spirit behind Margaret.
Evil Spirit.
How changed is every thing
With thee, poor Margaret,
Since when, still full of innocence,
Thou to this very altar
Didst come, and from the little old thumbed prayer-book
Didst lisp the murmured prayers;
Half with the children out at play,
In a child's happy fancies, thy young heart,
And half with God in heaven.
And dost thou, canst thou think? ..
Thy vrain, where wanders it? ..
In thy heart oh what a weight
Of guilt! of evil done!
Prayest thou for thy mother's soul—
She who through thee did sleep and sleep away
Into undying agonies?
And on thy door-stead whose the blood?
And in thy bosom is there not
A stirring, that is torture,
And with foreboding fears
Makes felt the present woe?

Margaret.
Woe, woe!
Oh that I could escape
These dark thoughts flitting over and athwart me,
And all accusing me!

Choir.
Dies Iræ, Dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla.

Evil Spirit.
The judgment arrests thee—
The trumpet is sounding—
The graves are a-stir—
And thy heart,
From the sleep of its ashes,
For fiery torture
Created again,
Awakes up and trembles.

Margaret.
That I were out of this—
I feel as if the organ
Stifled my breathing,
And that the anthem was
Breaking my heart.

Choir.
Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet adparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.

Margaret.
I feel so tightened here,
The pillars of the wall
Are grasping me;
The arch above
Weighs on me.—Air!

Evil Spirit.
Hide thyself—sin and shame
Will find thee out—
Oh, never were they hidden—
Air—light—exposure—
Woe's thee!

Choir.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,
Quem patronum rogaturus,
Cum vix justus sit securus.

Evil Spirit.
From thee their countenances
The sons of light all turn.
To reach to thee their hands
Makes the pure shudder—
Woe!

Choir.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus.

Margaret
(fainting) to the girl next her.
Your flasket, friend.