| I LEFT thee last, a child at heart, | |
| A woman scarce in years: | |
| I come to thee, a solemn corpse | |
| Which neither feels nor fears. | |
| I have no breath to use in sighs; | 5 |
| They laid the dead-weights on mine eyes | |
| To seal them safe from tears. | |
| |
| Look on me with thine own calm look: | |
| I meet it calm as thou. | |
| No look of thine can change this smile, | 10 |
| Or break thy sinful vow: | |
| I tell thee that my poor scorn'd heart | |
| Is of thine earth—thine earth—a part: | |
| It cannot vex thee now. | |
| |
| I have pray'd for thee with bursting sob | 15 |
| When passion's course was free; | |
| I have pray'd for thee with silent lips | |
| In the anguish none could see; | |
| They whisper'd oft, 'She sleepeth soft'— | |
| But I only pray'd for thee. | 20 |
| |
| Go to! I pray for thee no more: | |
| The corpse's tongue is still; | |
| Its folded fingers point to heaven, | |
| But point there stiff and chill: | |
| No farther wrong, no farther woe | 25 |
| Hath licence from the sin below | |
| Its tranquil heart to thrill. | |
| |
| I charge thee, by the living's prayer, | |
| And the dead's silentness, | |
| To wring from out thy soul a cry | 30 |
| Which God shall hear and bless! | |
| Lest Heaven's own palm droop in my hand, | |
| And pale among the saints I stand, | |
| A saint companionless. | |
