CHANT. Kyrie Eleison!
| Christe Eleison!|
ELSIE.I am at home here in my Fathers house?
|These paintings of the Saints upon the walls|
|Have all familiar and benignant faces.|| 5|
PRINCE HENRY.The portraits of the family of God!
|Thine own hereafter shall be placed among them.|
ELSIE.How very grand it is and wonderful!
|Never have I beheld a church so splendid!|
|Such columns, and such arches, and such windows,|| 10|
|So many tombs and statues in the chapels,|
|And under them so many confessionals.|
|They must be for the rich. I should not like|
|To tell my sins in such a church as this.|
|Who built it?|
PRINCE HENRY. A great master of his craft,
|Erwin von Steinbach; but not he alone,|
|For many generations labored with him.|
|Children that came to see these Saints in stone,|
|As day by day out of the blocks they rose,|
|Grew old and died, and still the work went on,|| 20|
|And on, and on, and is not yet completed.|
|The generation that succeeds our own|
|Perhaps may finish it. The architect|
|Built his great heart into these sculptured stones,|
|And with him toiled his children, and their lives|| 25|
|Were builded, with his own, into the walls,|
|As offerings unto God. You see that statue|
|Fixing its joyous, but deep-wrinkled eyes|
|Upon the Pillars of the Angels yonder.|
|That is the image of the master, carved|| 30|
|By the fair hand of his own child, Sabina.|
ELSIE.How beautiful is the column that he looks at!
PRINCE HENRY.That, too, she sculptured. At the base of it
|Stand the Evangelists; above their heads|
|Four Angels blowing upon marble trumpets,|| 35|
|And over them the blessed Christ, surrounded|
|By his attendant ministers, upholding|
|The instruments of his passion.|
ELSIE. O my Lord!
|Would I could leave behind me upon earth|
|Some monument to thy glory, such as this!|| 40|
PRINCE HENRY.A greater monument than this thou leavest
|In thine own life, all purity and love!|
|See, too, the Rose, above the western portal|
|Resplendent with a thousand gorgeous colors,|
|The perfect flower of Gothic loveliness!|| 45|
ELSIE.And, in the gallery, the long line of statues,
|Christ with his twelve Apostles watching us!|
A BISHOP in armor, booted and spurred, passes with his train.
PRINCE HENRY.But come away; we have not time to look.
|The crowd already fills the church, and yonder|
|Upon a stage, a herald with a trumpet,|| 50|
|Clad like the Angel Gabriel, proclaims|
|The Mystery that will now be represented.|