But when she sang, there fell so deep a hush, The listening ear might almost hear a blush! Methinks the very footlights must have felt The wonder and the fragrance where they knelt.

Across the years once more I see her stand, The sheet of music trembling in her hand.

Suitors she had in plenty; men who flung Their hearts with their bouquets when she had sung;

She laugh'd in girlish ignorance, nor guess'd
The flattery in the voices that caress'd.

But, lest his blossom suffer blight withal,
Came jealously the Lover of us all,

And wooed her spirit with his subtlest breath

What lad hath kiss'd so many lips as Death! Through blinding tears once more I see her lie

Like a pale lily, garnered for the sky!

Mayhap one voice was missing in the choir That sings forever round God's feet of fire; Mayhap the Seraphim, leaning low, had caught

Her little human echo of God's thought,

Trifling

From painting by R. Poetzelberger