The daily exchange. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1858-1861, 1859-08-10

a GLORIOUS rounded
"Turn Fortune turn thy wheel. and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine storm and cloud
Thy wheel and thee Ee neither love nor hate.
Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown;
With that wild wheel 60 not up or down;
Our hoard is little, but our hearts great
rsmilc and We smile, the lords of many lands;
Frown and We smile the lords of our own hands:
For man is man and master Of his fate
Turn, turr thy wheel above the staring crowd;
Thy wheel and thou shadows in the cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate >
Elaine contains the story of the hapess love and
untimely death of lovely maiden, lilly fair
who loved the great Knight, Sir LANcpLor, and he,
'peradventure. had he seen her first had loved
her too
The shackes of an old love straitsned him,
His honor rooted in dishonor Stood
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true'
The Knight was bound to Queen GUISEvERE, and
then the maiden when she knew the hopelessness of
her passion sickened and died Her despair is thus
finely touched in a song which she sings fall in
fiery dawning, wild with wind that shook her
tower
Sweet is true love tho given in vain in vain:
And sweet is death who puts end to pain:
know not which is sweeter, no, not I.
Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be
Love thou art bitter; sweet is death to me
'Sweet love, that seems not made to fade aWay
Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay
know not which is sweeter no not l.
81 fain would follow love, if that could be;
l needs must follow death, who calls for me:
Call and follow, l follow let me dieii
G,ineuere is like dirge 1t is pencied in shadow.
yet not without the light of Hope breaking in at the
close like placid sunset after day of storm
and cloud 1t treats of sin and its punishment-of
| nd
the holy house at Almesbury, whittier Queen Gut
NEvERE had fed, and sat
Weeping, none with her save little maid
novice one low light betwixt them burned
Blurred by the creeping mist, for all abroad
Beneath the moon unseen albeit at full
The white mist like face-coth the face
Chung to the dead earth, and the land was STILL,
The little maid sings song, the idea of which
is taken from the Parable of the Foolish Virgins in
the Gospel, and which the nuns had taught her.
1t is the wall of the lost soul, against which the
gates of Heaven forever barred-a funereal note
of despair, and every line Sob ..
''Late, late, late and dark the night and chill,
Late, late, so late but enter still.
Too late, too late We cannot enter now.
"No light had we for that we do repent;
And learning this, the bridegroom will relent
Too late too late we cannot enter now.
''No light so late and dark and chill the night!
let US in, that we may find the light 1870
Too late, too late We cannot enter now.
"Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet
o let US in tho late, to kiss his feet
No, no, too late We cannot enter now.n t..
But the remorse of the guilty Queen is not that of
one who sorrows without hope. There is forgive
ness and rest in store even for her, as we may
learn from the closing lines of the poem. The
fearful Queen appeals to the holy nuns m
"Let me- if you do not shudde r at me-
Nor shun to call me sister, dwell with you,
Wear black and white, and be nun like you,
Fast with your fasts not feasng with your feasts,
Grieve with your griefs, not grieving at your joys
But not rejoicing; mingle with your rites;
Pray and be prayed for, lie before your shrines
Do each low office of your holy house,
Walk your dim cloister, and distribute dole
To poor sick people, richer in His eyes, ..
l. Who ransomed us, and paler too than l.
And treat their loathsome hurts and heal mine own
And SO wear out in aims deed and in prayer,
The sombre close Of that volupuous day,
Which wrought tn ruin of my lord the King
she said: they took her to themselves and she
Still hoping, fearing, Is it yet too late 2?
Dwelt with them, till in time their Abbess died,
Then she, for her good deeds and her pure life,
Was chosen Abbess, there, an Abbess, lived
For three brief years, and there Abbess past
To where beyond these voices there is peace
Fiinis corsrat opus!-We will not disturb the
echoes of such requiem by any words of common
dation. .tast4 saf l.t ..H