he faithless Delphis is sitting in his wheel. Simoetha has learnt
many spells and charms from an Assyrian, and she tries them all. The
distant roar of the waves, the stroke rising from the fire, the dogs
howling in the street, the tortured fluttering bird, the old woman, the
broken-hearted girl and her awful spells, all join in forming a night
scene the effect of which is heightened by the calm cold moonshine.
The old woman leaves the girl, who at once ceases to weave her spells,
allows her pent-up tears to have their way, and looking up to Selene the
moon, the lovers' silent confidante, pours out her whole story: how when
she first saw the beautiful Delphis her heart had glowed with love, she
had seen nothing more of the train of youths who followed him, "and,"
(thus sadly the poet makes her speak)

"how I gained my home
I knew not; some strange fever wasted me.
Ten days and nights I lay upon my bed.
O tell me, mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

"Then" (she continues) when Delphis at last crossed her threshold:

"I
Became all cold like snow, and from my brow
Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none,
Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make
That babbles to its mother in its dreams;
But all my fair frame stiffened into wax,--
O tell me mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

Whence came her love? thence, whence it comes to us now. The love of the
creature to its Creator, of man to God, is the grand and yet gracious
gift of Christianity. Christ's command to love our neighbor called
into existence not only the conception of philanthropy, but of humanity
itself, an idea unknown to the heathen world, where love had been at
widest limited to their native town and country. The love of man and
wife has without doubt been purified and transfigured by Christianity;
still it is possible that a Greek may have loved as tenderly and
longingly as a Christian. The more ardent glow of passion at least
cannot be denied to the ancients. And did not their love find vent
in the same expressions as our own? Who does not know the charming
roundelay:

"Drink the glad wine with me,
With me spend youth's gay hours;
Or a sighing lover be,
Or crown thy brow with flowers.
When I am merry and mad,
Merry and mad be you;
When I am sober and sad,