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The sun was gone now.

The curled moon

Was like a little feather

Fluttering far down the gulf. And now
She spoke through the still weather.
Her voice was like the voice the stars
Had when they sung together.

"I wish that he were come to me,
For he will come," she said.
"Have I not prayed in Heaven?

Lord, Lord, has he not prayed?

- on earth,

Are not two prayers a perfect strength?
And shall I feel afraid?

"When round his head the aureole clings,

And he is clothed in white,

I'll take his hand and go with him
To the deep wells of light,

And we will step down as to a stream,
And bathe there in God's sight.

"We two will stand beside that shrine,
Occult, withheld, untrod,
Whose lamps are stirred continually
With prayers sent up to God;
And see our old prayers, granted, melt
Each like a little cloud.

"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
Saith His Name audibly.

"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,

And find some knowledge at each pause, Or some new thing to know."

(Ah sweet! Just now, in that bird's song,

Strove not her accents there

Fain to be hearkened?

When those bells

Possessed the midday air,

Was she not stepping to my side
Down all the trembling stair?)

"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

And foreheads garlanded;

Into the fine cloth white like flame
Weaving the golden thread,

To fashion the birth-robes for them
Who are just born, being dead.

"He shall fear, haply, and be dumb; Then I will lay my cheek

To his, and tell about our love,

Not once abashed or weak;
And the dear Mother will approve
My pride, and let me speak.

"Herself shall bring us, hand in hand,
To Him round whom all souls
Kneel, the unnumbered ransomed heads
Bowed with their aureoles:

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
At peace, only to be,
As then awhile, forever now
Together, I and he."

She gazed, and listened, and then said,

Less sad of speech than mild,

"All this is when he comes." She ceased. The light thrilled past her,

Filled with angels in strong level lapse.
Her eyes prayed, and she smiled.

(I saw her smile.) But soon their flight Was vague in distant spheres ; And then she laid her arms along

The golden barriers,

And laid her face between her hands,

And wept. (I heard her tears.)

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