Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1871-11-18
The legend Beautiful.

ifTOU lHe OecbllueT AllAnllc.l
"Hadst thou stayed, must have hedl"
That is what the Vision said.
In his chamber all alone
Kneeling on the floor of stone,
Prayed the Monk in deep contrition
For his sins of indeciSion,
Prayed for greater seli-1enial,
IN temptation and in trial;
1t was MONDAY by the dial,
And the Monk was all alone.
Suddenly, as if it lightened,
An unwOnted splendOr frightened
All within him and without him
In that narrow cell of stone;
And he saw the Blessed Vision
OF our Lord, with light Elysian
Like vesture wrapped about him,
Like garment round him thrown.
Not as crucifed and slain,
Not in agOnies Of pain,
Not with bleeding hands and feet,
Did the Monk his Master see;
But as in the village street,
In the house or harvest.feld,
Halt and lame and blind he healed,
When he walked in Galilee.
In an attitude imploring,
Hands upon his bosom crossed,
Wondering, wOrshipping, adoring
Knelt the Monk in rapture lost.
Lord, he thought in heaven that reignest,
Who am l, that thus thou deignest
To reveal myself to meY
Who am /, that from the centre
OF thy glory, thou shOudst enter
This poor cell, my guest to beg
Then amid his exaltation,
Loud the convent bell appalling,
From its belfry calling, calling,
Rang through court and corridor,
With persistent iteration
He had never heard before.
1t was now the appointed hour
When alike, in shine Or shower,
Winters cold or summers heat,
To the convent portals came,
All the blind and halt and lame,
All the beggars of the street,
For their daily dole of food
Dealt them by the brotherhood;
Aud their almOner was he,
Who upon his Blended knee,
Raped in silent ecstacy
OF divinest self-surrender,
Saw the vision and the splendor
Deep distress and hesitation
Mingled with his alteration;
Should he go, or should he stay2
Should he leave the poor to wait
Hungry at the convent gate,
Till the vision passed away?
Should he slight his heavenly guest,
Slight this visitant celestial,
For crowd of ragged, bestial
Beggars at the convent CATER
Would the Vision there remaing
Would the Vision come again2
Then voice within his breast
Whispered, audibly and clear,
As if TO the outward ear:
"Do thv duty: that is best;
Leave unto thy Lord the restm
Straightway to his feet he started,
And with longing look intent
On the Blessed Vision bent
Slowly from his cell departed,
Slowly on his errand went.
At the gate the poor were waiting,
Looking through the iron grating,
With that terror in the eye
That is only seen in those
Who amid their wants and woes
Hear the sound of doors that close
And OF feet that pass them by;
Grown familiar with disfayOr,
Grown familiar with the SAVIOR
OF the bread by which men die
But to-day, they knew not why,
Like the gate of Paradise
Seemed the convent gate to rise,
Like a sacrament divine
Seemed to them the bread and wine.
In his heart the Monk was praying,
Thinking of the homeless poor,
What they suffer and endure;
What we see not, what we see;
And the inward voice was saying:
whatsoever thing thou dOeSt
TO the least of mine and lowest,
That thou doest unto mel"
Unto me but had the Vision
Come to him in beggar's clothing,
Come mendicant lmploring,
Would he then have knelt adOring,
Or have listened with derisiOn,
And have turned away with lOathiug?
Thus his conscience put the question:
Full of troublesome suggestion,
As at length, with hurried pace,
Towards his cell he turned his face,
And beheld the convent bright
With supernatural light,
Like luminous cloud expanding
Over floor and wall and ceiling
But he paused with awe-struck feeling
At the threshold of his door,
For the Vision still was standing
As he left it there before,
When the convent bell appalling,
From its belfry calling, calling,
Summoned him TO feed the poor.
Through the long hour intervening
II had waited his return,
And he felt his bosom burn,
COmprehending all the meaning,
When the Blessed Vision said,
"Hadst thou stayed, must have fed!"
HENRY W. LoNGFELLoy