The Spell of St. Pennah

" Daughter, my daughter ! it is the time;
" The bell hath swung with the midnight chime.
" By thy lost soul and thy tarnished fame,
" Bring me thy lover's unuttered name ! "

" Mother, my mother ! how can I brook
" From his awful eye the withering look ?
" How can I brave that boding tone —
" ' Death to our love when my name is known ? '"

" Sign thou the Cross on his bended brow ;
" Breathe in his ear Saint Pennah's vow ;
" Free thy poor soul from her sinful load —
" False to thy lover, but true to thy God ! "

She hath made that Sign in her fond despair ;
She hath breathed in fierce love Saint Pennah's prayer ;
She hath lightened her soul of its sinful load —
False to her lover, but true to her God.

It was a Spirit that turned to the sky
Th' immortal grief of his sullen eye ;
And sad was the wild farewell he gave,
As the deep voice of a sounding wave.

" Home ! Home, once more, to my woful toil !
" Back to our den, to gibber and coil,
" Where the gliding shadows mourn for rest,
" Each with his hand on his weary breast ! "

Now this same Saint Pennah, you understand,
Was the frailest flower of the Rocky Land ;
Hard penance she did for crimes unshriven,
Till the sinner on earth was a saint in heaven.

She framed in her death this touching spell,
Which the daughter said who had loved too well —
Thus was lightened her soul of its weary load,
And the sinner was gathered unto God !