WHEN sight and sound, by Pain's oppressive hand,
Were dimmed, and low the shaded night-light burned,
A Presence came beside my bed, and yearned
To clasp and bear me to another land.
But whispered gently, 'It is not so planned.'
In sweet compassion was the soft glance turned
On mine, till senses quickened and I learned
The tenderness within the eyes that scanned.
O Angel of the Sombre Cowl! close fold
My hand and lead me into peace,' I prayed;
But with a glowing glance of love untold,
Alone to the Unknown he passed. Now stayed
Is former dread; whatever life may hold,
I follow to the end, all unafraid.
