"Then the wounds again burst open;
And afresh the torrents break
From head and heart--life's torrents--
And lo! I am awake."
"There now, that is enough!" said the curate. "That is not nice--is it,
Mrs. Cathcart?"
Mrs. Cathcart smiled, and said:
"I should hardly have thought your time well-spent in translating it,
Mr. Armstrong."
"It took me a few idle minutes only," said the curate. "But my foolish
brother, who has a child's fancy for horrid things, took a fancy to
that; and so he won't let my sins be forgotten. But I will take away
the taste of it with another of Heine's, seeing we have fallen upon him.
I should never have dreamed of introducing him here. It was Miss
Cathcart's first song that opened the vein, I believe."
"I am the guilty person," said Adela; "and I fear I am not sorry for my
sins--the consequences have been too pleasant. Do go on, Mr. Armstrong."
He repeated:
"_Peace_.
"High in the heavens the sun was glowing;
Around him the white clouds, like waves, were flowing;
The sea was very still and grey.
Dreamily thinking as I lay,
Close by the gliding vessel's wheel,
A sleepless slumber did o'er me steal;
And I saw the Christ, the healer of woe,
In white and waving garments go;
Walking in giant form went he
Over the land and sea.
High in the heaven he towered his head,
And his hands in blessing forth he spread
Over the land and sea.
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