"Whose tones familiar sent

A magic thrill

Through all my veins and fever's fetters rent,

Was Eric's, faithful youth, whom they would kill

 

 

 Convalescent. 

 "He'll come anon," the holy mother said, And kissed her death-white cheek. "Now sleep! and while We swiftly send your gallant page to seek, Let holy thoughts and dreams the time beguile!" She woke and lo! he stood 'mong those beside her bed. 

"He'll come anon," the holy mother said,

And kissed her death-white cheek.

"Now sleep! and while

We swiftly send your gallant page to seek,

Let holy thoughts and dreams the time beguile!"

 She clasped his hand and whispered low. He bent Once more to hear that voice He must obey, E'en though 'twixt life and death, no choice It might him leave. She only bade him stay Nor leave her more. The lady mother gave assent. 

She clasped his hand and whispered low. He bent

Once more to hear that voice

He must obey,

E'en though 'twixt life and death, no choice

It might him leave. She only bade him stay

 As flowers to sun respond with blushing hues And grateful scents distil Their voiceless praise; So now as through her veins life's pulses thrill Amid the breath of flowers and wood-choirs' lays, She could, no more than they, her hymn of thanks refuse. 

 Prev. P 34/54 next