And opened the door for him;

And he said to her, "O maiden!
Thou hast thought of me with love,

And for thy sake

Out of my Father's kingdom
Have I come hither:

I am the Master of the Flowers.

My garden is in Paradise,

And if thou wilt go with me,
Thy bridal garland

Shall be of bright red flowers."
And then he took from his finger

A golden ring,

And asked the Sultan's daughter

If she would be his bride.

And when she answered him with love,

His wounds began to bleed,

And she said to him,

66

"O Love! how red thy heart is,
And thy hands are full of roses."
"For thy sake," answered he,
"For thy sake is my heart so red,
For thee I bring these roses;
I gathered them at the cross
Whereon I died for thee!
Come, for my Father calls.

Thou art my elected bride !”

And the Sultan's daughter

Followed him to his Father's garden.

Prince Henry. Wouldst thou have done so, Elsie?

Elsie. Yes, very gladly.

Prince Henry. Then the Celestial Bridegroom

Will come for thee also.

Upon thy forehead he will place,

Not his crown of thorns,

But a crown of roses.

In thy bridal chamber,

Like Saint Cecilia,

Thou shalt hear sweet music,

And breathe the fragrance

Of flowers immortal!

Go now and place these flowers

Before her picture.

The lines are of irregular lengths, and there is no rime; but the music is perfect. There is not a limping line. The sense and the sound are beautifully blended. Read it with thoughts entirely fixed upon what is said, and you will irresistibly fall into the rhythm of the verse. It may seem very simple to write thus, with no rime, and constantly varying the length of the lines; but to do this and yet have the rhythmic movement perfect, and each line itself a perfect one is a triumph of art. The sweet simplicity and clear faith of Elsie appear clearly in this passage; and so does the amiable weakness of the Prince, easily turned into cruel selfishness, and yet capable of receiving the influence of Elsie's strength, and so of being redeemed. In the clearness and force with which these characteristics appear in the words and actions of the persons, the dramatic quality of the poem is shown. In other parts of this poem, rime is used freely and with the ease and melody characteristic of all Longfellow's work. There is a good deal of variety of scene and action. Elsie offers herself as the victim by whose voluntary death the health of the Prince is to be restored. The Prince accepts the offering, and they journey together through Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, to Salerno, where the sacrifice is to be accomplished. An interesting interlude is a very pretty imitation of an ancient miracle play. Lucifer and

good and bad angels are introduced. At the last the Prince refuses to accept the sacrifice, and so, as becomes a legend rather than a tragedy, the end is happy. It is not an acting play, nor is it a powerful drama of passion; but it is a beautiful legend in dramatic form.

In studying Longfellow's lyric work, take one of the earliest poems, and notice some of the qualities which gave him his peculiar popularity.

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Descend with broad-winged flight,

The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
The best-beloved Night!

In form this lyric is very simple, and yet, on examination, shows a delicately elaborate art. The quatrains are formed of alternating pentameter and trimeter lines, with iambic feet. The measure is very melodious, the variations from the iambic scheme being just enough to avoid monotony as is illustrated in lines 2 and 8. This easy, flowing melody of versification is the first notable "Longfellow" quality. quality. In each of the first three stanzas the word "Night" is used, and determines the rimescheme. In the second part of the lyric, the word "air," in the fourth stanza, gives the dominant tone of the riming. The figure of speech which pervades the whole poem is personification; and in the development of this figure, dignity, simplicity, and poetic appropriateness are the striking qualities, more than originality or force. Notice how this figure is developed at lines 2, 3, 6, 19. A characteristic quality of Longfellow's work, which to some seems a special charm, and to others a weakness, is that which has been spoken of as the "flavor of bookishness." It is the strong tendency to make allusions and references to characters, incidents, and sayings from the wide range of his reading. It is illustrated in lines 12 and 21 of this selection. Finally, notice the expression of the brooding presence of the Night, and the peace it brings to the