STOLEN WATERS.
177
"A sweet pale child—
Wearily looking to the purple West—
Waiting the great For-ever
That suddenly shall sever
The cruel chains that hold her from her rest—
By earth-joys unbeguiled.
"An angel-child—
Gazing with living eyes on a dead face:
The mortal form forsaken,
That none may now awaken,
That lieth painless, moveless in her place,
As though in death she smiled!
"Be as a child—
So shall thou sing for very joy of breath—
So shall thou wait thy dying,
In holy transport lying—
So pass rejoicing through the gate of death,
In garment undefiled.
