The Death of Beatrice
And since the Lady Beatrice was
Merely on earth a traveller—
Weep not; she saw as through a glass
The earth, but ever would confer
With angels that in God's sight pass.
Merely on earth a traveller—
Weep not; she saw as through a glass
The earth, but ever would confer
With angels that in God's sight pass.
Half consciously she moved within
This world, not once her spirit grew
Clouded by any mist of sin—
But all things that around her drew
Part of her beauty seemed to win.
This world, not once her spirit grew
Clouded by any mist of sin—
But all things that around her drew
Part of her beauty seemed to win.
As though her spirit were a pool
Of such great virtue, all were saved
From some foul fever's loathed rule
If they their sickly bodies laved
In those deep waters hushed and cool.
Of such great virtue, all were saved
From some foul fever's loathed rule
If they their sickly bodies laved
In those deep waters hushed and cool.
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