"I wish that he were come to me, For he will come," she said. "Have not I prayed in Heaven?-on earth, Lord, Lord, has he not prayed? Are not two prayers a perfect strength? And shall I feel afraid? "When round his head the aureole clings, I'll take his hand and go with him As unto a stream we will step down, "We two will stand beside that shrine, And see our old prayers, granted, melt "We two will lie i' the shadow of That living mystic tree Within whose secret growth the Dove Is sometimes felt to be, While every leaf that His plumes touch "And I myself will teach to him, I myself, lying so, The songs I sing here; which his voice Shall pause in, hushed and slow, (Alas! we two, we two, thou say'st! Yea, one wast thou with me That once of old. But shall God lift To endless unity The soul whose likeness with thy soul Was but its love for thee?) "We two," she said, "will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names Are five sweet symphonies, Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys. "Circlewise sit they, with bound locks Into the fine cloth white like flame To fashion the birth-robes for them "He shall fear, haply, and be dumb: "Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, And angels meeting us shall sing To their citherns and citoles. "There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me:Only to live as once on earth With Love, only to be, As then awhile, for ever now She gazed and listened and then said, Less sad of speech than mild, "All this is when he comes." She ceased. The light thrilled towards her, filled With angels in strong level flight. Her eyes prayed, and she smiled. (I saw her smile.) But soon their path And then she cast her arms along The golden barriers, And laid her face between her hands, And wept. (I heard her tears.) Dante Gabriel Rossetti [1828-1882] A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN FLOWERS, that have died upon my Sweet, The Bird whose being no man knows— For lo, a garden-place I found, Well filled of leaves, and stilled of sound, Well flowered, with red fruit marvelous; Alone she walked,-ah, well I wis, At once across the sward she came,- "Where hast thou stayed?" "Where hast thou stayed?" she asked, as though The long years were an hour ago; But I spake not, nor answered, And in her clear cheek's changeless red, That in this place the Hours were dead, "This is well done," she said, "in thee, For here all things are fair to us, "No formless Future blurs the sky; Betwixt the Coming and the Past At "Heaven" she ceased;-and lifted up With rounded mouth, and eyes aglow; And now, O Flowers, -Ye that indeed are dead,— Now for all waiting hours, For of a surety, now, I see, That, without dim distress My Lady, verily, awaiteth me; I am right fain to make Out from my pain a pillow, and to take Knowing that I, at last, shall stand And, in the holding of my dear Love's hand, Austin Dobson [1840 THE HOUND OF HEAVEN I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days; And shot, precipitated Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. But with unhurrying chase, And unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me." I pleaded, outlaw-wise, By many a hearted casement, curtained red, (For, though I knew His love Who followed, |