_Elsie._ And must he die?

_Ursula._ Yes; if the dear G.o.d does not take Pity upon him, in his distress, And work a miracle!

_Gottlieb._ Or unless Some maiden, of her own accord, Offers her life for that of her lord, And is willing to die in his stead.

_Elsie._ I will!

_Ursula._ Prithee, thou foolish child, be still!

Thou shouldst not say what thou dost not mean!

_Elsie._ I mean it truly!

_Max._ O father! this morning, Down by the mill, in the ravine, Hans killed a wolf, the very same That in the night to the sheepfold came, And ate up my lamb, that was left outside.

_Gottlieb._ I am glad he is dead. It will be a warning To the wolves in the forest, far and wide.

_Max._ And I am going to have his hide!

_Bertha._ I wonder if this is the wolf that ate Little Red Ridinghood!

_Ursula._ O, no!

That wolf was killed a long while ago.

Come, children, it is growing late.

_Max._ Ah, how I wish I were a man, As stout as Hans is, and as strong!

I would do nothing else, the whole day long, But just kill wolves.

_Gottlieb._ Then go to bed, And grow as fast as a little boy can.

Bertha is half asleep already.

See how she nods her heavy head, And her sleepy feet are so unsteady She will hardly be able to creep upstairs.

_Ursula._ Good-night, my children. Here's the light.

And do not forget to say your prayers Before you sleep.

_Gottlieb._ Good-night!

_Max and Bertha._ Good-night!

(_They go out with_ ELSIE.)

_Ursula, (spinning)._ She is a strange and wayward child, That Elsie of ours. She looks so old, And thoughts and fancies weird and wild Seem of late to have taken hold Of her heart, that was once so docile and mild!

_Gottlieb._ She is like all girls.

_Ursula._ Ah no, forsooth!

Unlike all I have ever seen.

For she has visions and strange dreams, And in all her words and ways, she seems Much older than she is in truth.

Who would think her but fourteen?

And there has been of late such a change!

My heart is heavy with fear and doubt That she may not live till the year is out.

She is so strange,--so strange,--so strange!

_Gottlieb._ I am not troubled with any such fear!

She will live and thrive for many a year.

ELSIE'S CHAMBER.

_Night._ ELSIE _praying._

_Elsie._ My Redeemer and my Lord, I beseech thee, I entreat thee, Guide me in each act and word, That hereafter I may meet thee, Watching, waiting, hoping, yearning, With my lamp well trimmed and burning!

Interceding With these bleeding Wounds upon thy hands and side, For all who have lived and erred Thou hast suffered, thou hast died, Scourged, and mocked, and crucified, And in the grave hast thou been buried!

If my feeble prayer can reach thee, O my Saviour, I beseech thee, Even as thou hast died for me, More sincerely Let me follow where thou leadest, Let me, bleeding as thou bleedest, Die, if dying I may give Life to one who asks to live, And more nearly, Dying thus, resemble thee!

THE CHAMBER OF GOTTLIEB AND URSULA.

_Midnight._ ELSIE _standing by their bedside, weeping._

_Gottlieb._ The wind is roaring; the rushing rain Is loud upon roof and window-pane, As if the Wild Huntsman of Rodenstein, Boding evil to me and mine, Were abroad to-night with his ghostly train!

In the brief lulls of the tempest wild, The dogs howl in the yard; and hark!

Some one is sobbing in the dark, Here in the chamber!

_Elsie._ It is I.

_Ursula._ Elsie! what ails thee, my poor child?

_Elsie._ I am disturbed and much distressed, In thinking our dear Prince must die, I cannot close mine eyes, nor rest.

_Gottlieb._ What wouldst thou? In the Power Divine His healing lies, not in our own; It is in the hand of G.o.d alone.

_Elsie._ Nay, he has put it into mine, And into my heart!

_Gottlieb._ Thy words are wild!

_Ursula._ What dost thou mean? my child! my child!

_Elsie._ That for our dear Prince Henry's sake I will myself the offering make, And give my life to purchase his.

_Ursula_ Am I still dreaming, or awake?

Thou speakest carelessly of death, And yet thou knowest not what it is.