* * * * *

From off the sea, the pilgrims came,
  With sea-toil wracked and worn;
The air blew keen, and the frost was sheen,
  Upon that wintry morn.

Through Glastonbury street went they;
  And ever on, and on,
Till they pass the well of the fairy spell,
  And the oak of Avalon.

They hear the rustling leaves and few,
  That linger on the bough;
But still they fare through the bitter air,
  And climb a hill-slope now.

On Weary-All-Hill their feet they stay
  (Full well that Hill ye know);
There may they rest, by toil oppressed,
  While round them drops the snow.

And one—­far gone in age was he—­
  As snow, his locks were white—­
The staff of thorn which he had borne,
  Did plant upon that height.

A thorn-stick dry, that pilgrim staff,
  He set it in the ground: 
And, swift as sight, with blossoms white
  The branching staff was crowned!

Each year since then (if sooth men say)
  Upon this Blessed Morn,
Who climbs that Hill, may see at will
  The flower upon the thorn!

Howe’er the wind may drive the sleet,
  That thorn will blooming be;
And some have seen a fair Child lean
  From out that blossomed tree!

One moment only—­then, apace,
  Both flower and leaf are shorn;
And, gaunt and chill, on Weary-All-Hill,
  There stands an ancient thorn!

God shield ye, comrades of the road—­
  With grace your spirits fill,
That ye may see the White-thorn tree
  A-bloom on Weary-All-Hill!

LEGEND OF ST. CHRISTOPHER

ADAPTED FROM THE GOLDEN LEGEND

There was a mighty man of old who dwelt in the land of Canaan.  Large was he and tall of stature and stronger than any man whom the world had ever seen.  Therefore was he called Offero, or, “The Bearer.”  Now he served the king of Canaan, but he was proud of his great strength and upon a time it came in his mind that he would seek the greatest king who then reigned and him only would he serve and obey.

So he travelled from one country to another until at length he came to one where ruled a powerful king whose fame was great in all the land.

“Thou art the conqueror of nations?” asked Offero.

“I am,” replied the king.

“Then take me into your service, for I will serve none but the mightiest of earth.”

“That then am I,” returned the king, “for truly I fear none.”

So the king received Offero into his service and made him to dwell in his court.

But once at eventide a minstrel sang before the king a merry song in which he named oft the evil one.  And every time that the king heard the name of Satan he grew pale and hastily made the sign of the cross upon his forehead.  Offero marvelled thereat and demanded of the king the meaning of the sign and wherefore he thus crossed himself.  And because the king would not tell him Offero said, “If thou tell me not, I shall no longer dwell with thee.”  Then the king answered, saying, “Always when I hear Satan named, I fear that he may have power over me and therefore I make this sign that he harm me not.”