|line||Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, –|
Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that were springing
Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving above her,
|1210||Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and forming|
Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squirrels.
Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the maidens
Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover,
But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the cornfield.
|1215||Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover.|
'Patience!' the priest would say; 'have faith, and thy prayer will be answered!
Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow,
See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the magnet;
This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has planted
|1220||Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's journey|
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert.
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion,
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance,
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly.
|1225||Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter|
Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe.'