Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/111

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wak'd me from my sleep, I knew not why, And bade me haste where a pale midnight lamp Gleam'd from an inner chamber. There she lay, With livid brow who yestermorn breath'd forth Through joyous smiles her superflux of bliss Into the hearts of others. By her side Her hoary sire, with speechless horror gaz'd Upon the stricken idol, all dismay'd Beneath his God's rebuke. And she who nurs'd That fair young creature at her gentle breast, And oft those sunny locks had deck'd with buds Of rose and jasmine, shuddering wip'd the dews Which death distils. The sufferer just had given Her long farewell, and for the last, last time Press'd with cold lips his cheek who led so late Her footsteps to the altar, and receiv'd In the deep transport of an ardent heart Her vow of love. And she had softly press'd That golden circlet with her bloodless hand Upon his finger, which he kneeling gave On the bright, bridal morn. So, there she lay In calm endurance, like the smitten lamb Wounded in flowery pastures, from whose breast The dreaded bitterness of death had past. —But a faint wail disturb'd the silent scene, And in its nurse's arms, a new-born babe Was borne in utter helplessness along, Before that dying eye.