A Young Mutineer by L.T. Meade

But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in, When he gazes in my face: He will say: "O Love, thine eyes Build the shrine my soul abides in, And I kneel here for thy grace! " -- E. BARRETT BROWNING.

There was a holly tree not far from the church with berries so red and leaves so green and shining that it was generally denuded of its beauties to decorate the most important parts of the church.