THE MASS.

WITH naked foot, and sackcloth vest,
And arms infolded on his breast,
Did every pilgrim go;

The standers-by might hear uneath, Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath,

Through all the lengthened row: No lordly look, nor martial stride, Gone was their glory, sunk their pride, Forgotten their renown; Silent and slow, like ghosts, they glide To the high altar's hallowed side,

And there they knelt them down: Above the suppliant chieftains wave The banners of departed brave; Beneath the lettered stones were laid The ashes of their fathers dead; From many a garnished niche around, Stern saints and tortured martyrs frowned.

And slow up the dim aisle afar,
With sable cowl and scapular,
And snow-white stoles, in order due,
The holy Fathers, two and two,

In long procession came:
Taper, and host, and book they bare,
And holy banner, flourished fair

With the Redeemer's naine. Above the prostrate pilgrim band The mitred Abbot stretched his hand, And blessed them as they kneeled; With holy cross he signed them all, And prayed they might be sage in hall, And fortunate in field.

Then mass was sung, and prayers

What power shall be the sinner's stay?

How shall he meet that dreadful day?

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll,

The flaming heavens together roll; When louder yet, and yet more dread,

Swells the high trump that wakes the dead!

Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,

When man to judgment wakes from clay,

Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay,

Though heaven and earth shall pass away!

SCOTT.

FRIAR OF ORDERS GRAY.

"AND whither would you lead me then?"

Quoth the Friar of orders gray; And the ruffians twain replied again, "By a dying woman to pray.'

"I see, ," he said, "a lovely sight, A sight bodes little harm,

A lady as a lily bright,

With an infant on her arm."