Page:Poems Angier.djvu/152

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
138
POEMS.
All conflicts in her breast here cease,
The vestal's soul is hushed to peace;
While o'er her head, a shining form
Bends like the bow, when passed the storm.

Whom Heaven would bless He calls to mourn—
Hence scourge and crown, by angel borne;
And well each suffering saint doth know,
'Tis Love's own hand deals every blow.

Whence come the shadow, whence the ray
That blending 'mid those tresses stray?
From scourge and crown, unseen by her,
The pure and saint-like worshipper.

"Maiden, on thee are doomed to fall
Woes that the stoutest might appall;
See, scourge and crown—the last they lose,
Whose faithless hearts the first refuse."

Thus spoke the angel with a smile,
But naught heard Agnes, all the while,
Save Duty's voice—the voice of God,
Which calls his own to wreath and rod.

Vouchsafe me. Father, strength divine,
To make the choice of Agnes mine;
Thy scourge with Christ-like heart to bear,
While shining ones my crown prepare.