The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1876-02-03
The &utland Daily Globe.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1876.
?
THE LEGEND OF THE oRGAN-BUILDER

Day by day the Organ-Bullder in his lonely
chamber wrought;
Day by day the soft air trembled to the music
OF his Thought;
TIL at last the work was ended, and no organ
Ever yet had scared responsive TO the masters
magic hand.
Ay, so rarely was it bullded that whenever
groom and Bride
Who in GOES sight were well-pleaslng in the
church stood side by Side.
Without touch or breath the organ OF itself be-
gan to play,
Aud the very airs Of heaven through the soft
gloom seemed to stray.
lie was young, the Organ-Builder, and DER all
the land his fame
Ran with fleet and eager footsteps, like a swift
ly rushlug ilame
AL the maidens heard the story all the maid
ems bushed and smiled,
by his youth and wondrouS beauty and his
great renOWn begulled.
SO he sought and won the farest, and the we'd
ding day was set
Happy day-the brightest jewel in the glad
years coronet!
But when they the portal entered, he forgot his
lovely BRIDE
Forgot his love, forgot his God, and his heart
swelled high with pride.
"Ah ~ thought he. show great a master am +,
When the organ plays,
How the vast cathedral arches will re-echo with
my pralse"
Up the aisle the gay procession moved. The
with It's every candle cleaning through soft
shadows like a star.
But he listened, listened listened, with no
thought OF love or prayer,
For the swelling notes OF triumph from his or
gan standing there.
All was silent. Nothing heard he save the
priests low monotone,
And the brides robe trailing softly DER the
IO0r OF fretted stone.
Then his lips grew white with anger Surely
God was pleased with him
who had built the wondrous organ for His tenn
pie vast and dim?
Whose the fault, then? Hers-the maiden
standing meekly at his side
Famed his jealous rage. maintaining she was
false TO hlm-hls bride.
Vain were all her protestatlcns, vain her inno-
cence and truth;
on that very night he left her to her anguish
and her ruth.
Far he wandered to country wherein no man
knew his name.
For ten weary years he dwelt there, nursing
still his wrath and shame.
Then his naughty heart grew softer, and he
thought by night and day
OF the bride he had deserted, TILL he hardly
dared to pray
Thought Of her, a spotless maiden, fair and
beautiful and good;
Thought OF his relentless anger that he cursed
her Womanhood
TIL his yearning grief and penitence at last
were all complete,
And he longed, with better longing Just to fall
down at her feet.
All how throboed his heart when, after many
aweary day and night,
Rose his native towers before him, with the
sunset glow alight
Through the gates into the city on he pressed
with eager tread;
There he met long Observation-Disclosures fol-
lowing the dead
Now why weep ye so, good people and whom
Why do yonder sorrowing maidens scatter
flowers along the way ?
they answered, weeping sore;
''For the Organ Builders sanity wife our eyes
shall see no more
"And because her days were given to the ser
vice OF Gods poor,
From his church we mean to bury her. Sdet
yonder Is the door"
No one knew him no one wondered when he
No one questioned when, with pallld lips, he
poured his tears like rain.
''Tls some one who she has comforted who
mourns with u.s." they said,
AS ne made MS way unchallenged. and bore
the collins head.
Bore 1t through the open portal, bore 1t up the
echoing aisle,
Let IL down before the altar, where the lights
burned clear the while:
When, oh, bark the wondrous organ OF Itself
began TO play
strains OF rare unearthly sweetness never
heard until that day
All the vauted arches rang with the music
sweet and clear;
All the air was tlled with glory as Of angels
lowering near
And ere yet the strain was ended he who bore
the coillh's head,
With the smile OF one forgiven, gently sank be-
Side it-dead.
They who raised the body knew him, and they
laid nm by his bride
Down the aisle and DER the threshold they
were carried side by side
While the organ played a dlrge that no man
ever hearI before,
And then softly sank to silence-silence kept
for eyermore.
-Harper's Magazine.