Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/280

 
"My heart is black with sin!" he cried,
"My soul can find no rest;
Extend Thine arms of mercy wide
And take me to Thy breast.
Canst Thou deny one soul relief
For whom Thy blood was shed?
Didst Thou not save the sorrowing thief
E'en as death bow'd Thy head?"

Athwart the altar passed a glow
From out the western heav'n—
The Messenger of Peace, to show
His guilt was all forgiven.
Uprais'd in hope, his glazing eye
With rapture's light was fired;
He sank before the Altar High,
And in a smile expir'd.

•••••
For vespers rang the cloister bell;
The abbot with his train,
Each from his solitary cell,
Came slowly in amain;
The rising moonbeams softly broke
Upon that prostrate head;
The solemn organ sweetly woke
Its requiem for the dead.

"Omicron."