Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXXIV. Compensation
From ‘The Warrior to His Dead Bride’
By Adelaide Anne Procter (1825–1864)
IF in the fight my arm was strong,
  And forced my foes to yield,
If conquering and unhurt I came
  Back from the battle-field—
It is because thy prayers have been        5
  My safeguard and my shield….
Thy heart, my own, still beats in Heaven
  With the same love divine
That made thee stoop to such a soul,
  So hard, so stern, as mine—        10
My eyes have learnt to weep, beloved,
  Since last they looked on thine.
I hear thee murmur words of peace
  Through the dim midnight air,
And a calm falls from the angel stars        15
  And soothes my great despair—
The Heavens themselves look brighter, love,
  Since thy sweet soul is there.

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