{24}

A time, a place where we shall meet,

And have the stars beneath our feet.

Since then I many times have sought

Who this might be, and sometimes thought

It must have been an angel sent

To be a special instrument

And minister of grace to me,

Or deemed again it might be He,

Of whom some say he shall not die,

Till he have seen with mortal eye

The glory of his Lord again:

But this is a weak thought and vain.

We parted, each upon our way—

I homeward, where my glad course lay

Beside those ruins where I sate

On the same morning—desolate,—

With scarcely strength enough to grieve:

And now it was a marvellous eve,{25}

{25}

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