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My lady comes at last,

Timid and stepping fast,

And hastening hither,

With modest eyes downcast;

I will not enter there,
To sully your pure prayer,
With thoughts unruly.

She comes,-she's here,- she's past; But suffer me to pace

May heaven go with her!

Kneel undisturbed, fair saint, Pour out your praise or plaint Meekly and duly;

Round the forbidden place,

Lingering a minute,

Like outcast spirits who wait, And see, through heaven's gate, Angels within it.

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Pale blue and streaked with pearl the For presently we part: what will

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And gay green vines climb o'er the rough stone wall,

And all about the wild-birds flit and call,

And but a stone's-throw southward, the blue sea

Rolls sparkling in and sings incessantly.

Lovely as any dream the peaceful place,

And scarcely changed since on her gentle face

For the last time on that sad April day

He gazed, and felt, for him, all beauty lay [him Buried with her forever. Dull to Looked the bright world through eyes with tears so dim! "I soon shall follow the same dreary way

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That leads and opens to the coasts of day."

The

everlasting God, in whom we trust!

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