Be healed by the end of breath?

 Tissue and nerve and pulse of her soul Had absorbed the disease of woe. The strangest of all the angels there Was Joy.  (Oh, the wretched know!) 

Had absorbed the disease of woe.

Was Joy.  (Oh, the wretched know!)

 "I am too tired with earth," she said, "To rest me in Paradise. Give me a spot to creep away, And close my heavy eyes. 

"To rest me in Paradise.

And close my heavy eyes.

 "I must learn to be happy in Heaven," she said, "As we learned to suffer below."— "Our ways are not your ways," he said, "And ours the ways you go." 

"As we learned to suffer below."—

"And ours the ways you go."

 As love, too wise for a word, puts by All a woman's weak alarms, Joy hushed her lips, and gathered her Into his mighty arms. 

All a woman's weak alarms,

Into his mighty arms.

 He took her to his holy heart, And there—for he held her fast— The saddest spirit in the world, Came to herself at last. 

And there—for he held her fast—

Came to herself at last.

 

 

 "ABSENT!"[1] 

 You do not lift your eyes to watch Us pass the conscious door; Your startled ear perceiveth not Our footfall on the floor; No eager word your lips betray To greet us when we stand; We throng to meet you, but you hold To us no beckoning hand. 

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