Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/184

168 A thing too dread to bear,

I knew that it was there.

And, my warm blood grown cold,

An icy breathing horror stirred my hair.

With pain-shut eyes I lay,

Wishing yet dreading day

That with strange pangs untold

Should come, my frame to rack in a new way,

And powerless to free

Myself, despairingly,

"From the body of this death,"

I moaned, "Who shall deliver me?"

Then, all my pulses stirred,

Awed and amazed, I heard—

Uttered with calming breath

Distinct and clear, apart from me—a word,

In far Judæa taught,

That instant freedom brought,—

Winging my soul's escape

Through the blest miracle of heavenly thought.