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the story of two lives.
Had been a shield secure, a hope, an aim.
The long-spent ashes kindle into flame
At the bare thought. Dare I repine at Fate?
Oh! hush, poor broken heart,—too late, too late!
The long-spent ashes kindle into flame
At the bare thought. Dare I repine at Fate?
Oh! hush, poor broken heart,—too late, too late!
How wide my thoughts are wandering to-night!
These three I gaze on dimly in the light,
Through that small dusty pane—recall to me
A famous picture of a group of three,
Seen in that grand old chapel of the Hall,
Over the altar set, midst tapers tall—
Painted by Raphael, so the legend saith—
The Virgin and the Babe of Nazareth.
This scene recalls that picture—parent love—
The emblem and the type of God's great Love—
The glory will fill up my darkness, I,
Soothed by its sweetness, now, can calmly die.
I will not enter in—poor friends, I go—
May God bless both—I need no kind word now.
I will go down to my dark home again.
What! do these stiffening fingers still retain
In their loose hold, this soiled, torn, heron's plume,—
Pledge of a love that led me to this doom?
These three I gaze on dimly in the light,
Through that small dusty pane—recall to me
A famous picture of a group of three,
Seen in that grand old chapel of the Hall,
Over the altar set, midst tapers tall—
Painted by Raphael, so the legend saith—
The Virgin and the Babe of Nazareth.
This scene recalls that picture—parent love—
The emblem and the type of God's great Love—
The glory will fill up my darkness, I,
Soothed by its sweetness, now, can calmly die.
I will not enter in—poor friends, I go—
May God bless both—I need no kind word now.
I will go down to my dark home again.
What! do these stiffening fingers still retain
In their loose hold, this soiled, torn, heron's plume,—
Pledge of a love that led me to this doom?
