Then, turning shortly, a view he caught

Of both the women for whom he sought.

One, spinning, sat by the open door;

Her spindle danced on the worn stone floor.

The other, just from the forest come,

Had brought a bundle of branches home,

And spread them now in the sun to dry;

But both looked up as the saint drew nigh.

Then, on a sudden, the spindle stopped,

The branches all on the grass were dropped.

He heard them joyfully both exclaim,

"The Saint! The hermit!"  And forth they came

To bid him welcome, and made request

That he would enter their house to rest.

But when a blessing they both implored,

He had not courage to speak the word.

The only blessing his lips let fall

Was this: "May the good Lord bless us all,

And keep our hearts in His peace divine!"

With hand uplifted, he made the sign,

 Prev. P 39/198 next