Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/117

The genius of the place, she lives and moves
Like some kind ministering spirit of the skies,
Sent forth the aged pilgrims Home to lead.

  But mortal years must end. Mary, thy cheek
So touched with crimson once, now paleness wears;
Falter thy footsteps on the lengthened path
Where thou of old didst tread like the gazelle
That scaleth with fleet limb the mountain side;
Faintness invades thy heart, so wont to beat
With ardor healthful and with purpose brave.
Beside thee bends thy Edward's reverend head;
Grieved not for thee, so soon to see His face
Whose beauty to behold ye both have pined;
But for himself, that he may not as yet
Enter within the veil, but without thee,
Still in the outer court must linger lone.
Thy children too, Edith and Arthur soon,
Then those who dwell afar, in hurried haste,
With Ella, gather in the chamber hushed,
And watch the failing pulses. O dread hour,