A Devotee - Mary Cholmondeley - Bog

'Yet to be loved makes not to love again; Not at my years, however it hold in youth.' Tennyson. The cathedral was crammed. The tall slender arches seemed to spring out of a vast sea of human heads. The orchestra and chorus had gradually merged into one person: one shout of praise, one voice of prayer, one wail of terror. The Elijah was in mid-career, sailing like a man-of-war upon the rushing waves of music.