The Vigil A Legend of Pekin I Loud through the land from east to west Red battle surged ; from north to south The demon of a world’s unrest Blazed in the angry cannon’s mouth. And growing fury, creeping fire Sprang from the outer darkness deep, Unchecked, to hurl a people’s ire On distant nations lost in sleep. Soundly they slept ! They could not hear Low from our lips that hopeful call, That prayer for life, which knows not fear Yet asks that death may not befall, For life is sweet, and men must take Into their hearts, wife, child, and friend. But sound they slept, and only wake Knowing the strange and dreadful end. But God gave strength : and morn by morn Faithful His luminary rose To give, with every hour new-born, A light unseen of friends and foes. We looked the future in the face, And dared its issue : it was kind. The body loses form and grace, Remains the beauty of the mind. Remains the inward health and light, Force of the brain, strength of the will, Remains the heart’s supernal sight, Remains the soul’s own splendour still. We said farewell to life and love, We said farewell to hope and youth, We glanced below, we gazed above, And so we faced the tragic truth. Fears in our danger rose, but fell : At first the children held their breath, But soon they heard, and it was well, As of a friend, the name of Death. And so to arms, while east and west Red battle surged, and north and south The demon of a world’s unrest Blazed in the fiery cannon’s mouth. II Each to his task : each to his post : We took our orders, none rebelled ; We shared with those who loved it most The honour of the name we held. And all was ready, come the dread Deliverance as it might and must. Our chief looked noble as he said :— “ Do but your duty, God is just.” Each to his post. Increased the strain, The days were one hard labour long, But still we found our wits again, And sometimes laughter rose to song. A cheerful band, together knit, Old friends, and only one away, And he ? The good God answer it ! Alone. He could not disobey. And yet how grand his fatal lot, A mortal shielding the divine, For though he fall, he suffers not Who guards till death a sacred shrine. We left him when the hour was late (One only could be spared to rest Within the sanctuary gate Before the emblems of the blest). His face was calm, his eyes were bright ; With cheerful voice he said “ Good-bye,” And pointed to the single light That hung before the altar high. He spoke—we answered with a smile— “ You die together : I alone. The future ? ’Tis a little while And we shall meet before the Throne.” And in his glance there shone the trust Of those whose work is yet to do. The scoffer’s scorn lay deep in dust, For they who wondered found him true. Forth to our fearful toil we went Through empty court and vacant room, And there, his courage still unspent, We left him kneeling in the gloom. III The days, the very hours were long ; And twenty times he heard the clock Above him chime for evensong. Twice every day he turned the lock Seeking the cloister. There the store Was scanty. Little was his need ; He would not give the body more, It was his soul he willed to feed. And all the while from east to west, With distant thunder, north and south, The demon of a world’s unrest Blazed in the furious cannon’s mouth. One night he turned at the quick sound Of footsteps, while the angry storm Seemed nearer. On the holy ground There stooped to him a sombre form. A friend ! A parchment-yellow face, But still a friend, who spoke with haste : “ The time is short, but I can trace, Master, a path across the waste “ Where all lie dead. The time is short ! ” The priest but blessed him by his name :— “ In days of good and ill report You helped me. Christ would do the same.” “ But look,” he said, “ there, overhead, Light fails. Our foes I fain would foil.” With magic feet his servant sped And brought him back a cruse of oil. Blest service ! Once again the glow Shone brightly as it shone of old ; With thanks he made his servant go : “ We meet,” he said, “ when all’s unrolled.” “ Dead ! ” And the merry music stilled Of children ; the perfected zeal Of men and women, proudly filled With love for this strange people’s weal, Gone ! And he shrank a moment, blind With horror : then to lift his eyes And see, past every fate unkind, A sign of perfect peace arise. IV Night fell. Once more the solemn hour Of vigil through increasing pain, Alone, whilst in the quiet tower Chimed the sweet bell again, again, To daylight, with an aching heart He watched and waited for release. The slightest whisper made him start : He prayed with pallid lips for peace. Peace, but to keep that altar light Steadily burning till he died. And after ? God maintains the right ; The rest He will at last provide. “ My happiest duty’s all but done, I fear no sword’s benignant edge, But fear, ere yet my race be run, The last most dreadful sacrilege.” He spoke with utterance faint and weak, Hunger had long begun to gnaw, But still he prayed, intent to seek Mercy for those without the law. Then the light flickered, and his strength Grew with the moments less and less. But prayers are heard. Loud, loud at length He heard the rabble shriek and press. He rose to meet them, threw the door Wide open ; came full strength anew. Then at one blow the holy floor Was quickly stained a crimson hue. But ere he fell one glance he flung Backward, to lift a cry of praise, For there before the altar hung No flickering light. A mighty blaze, A golden splendour, seen of men Who hold the faith when all is gone. He saw, and died. And only then The blind unreasoning crowd swept on. O crowning mercy, vigil blest, Hiding from those imperfect eyes The triumph of that strange unrest ! For we, from vantage of the skies, See with an undiminished faith The light, extinguished for an hour, Pass from the dim abodes of death To radiance of a higher power— While through the land from east to west Dark fury rules, and north and south Blind anger, with a demon’s zest, Is blazing in the cannon’s mouth— See fresh revealed, through weal and woe, That ancient promise, made of yore, As light athwart the darkness : “ Go, For I am with you evermore.” Herbert Morrah.