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Came they to him in dreams?—He could not tell. Sleeping or waking now small difference made; For even while he slept he knew full well That his dear Mother and that darling Maid Both in the Garden of the Dead were laid: And yet he saw them as in life, the same, Save only that in radiant robes arrayed, And round about their presence when they came There shone an effluent light as of a harmless flame.

And where he was he knew, the time, the place,— All circumstantial things to him were clear. His own heart undisturb'd. His Mother's face How could he chuse but know; or knowing, fear Her presence and that Maid's, to him more dear Than all that had been left him now below? Their love had drawn them from their happy sphere; That dearest love unchanged they came to show; And he must be baptized, and then he too might go.