The blessed damozel & other poems

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Página 172 - I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and of the shadow of death, without any order and where the light is as darkness.
Página 6 - There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me: Only to live as once on earth With Love, only to be, As then awhile, for ever now Together, I and he.
Página 3 - And the souls mounting up to God Went by her like thin flames. And still she bowed herself and stooped Out of the circling charm ; Until her bosom must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm. From the fixed place of Heaven she saw Time like a pulse shake fierce Through all the worlds.
Página 179 - He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Página 6 - will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names Are five sweet symphonies, Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys. "Circlewise sit they, with bound locks And foreheads garlanded; "° Into the fine cloth white like flame Weaving the golden thread, To fashion the birth-robes for them Who are just born, being dead.
Página 4 - Are not two prayers a perfect strength? And shall I feel afraid? "When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, I'll take his hand and go with him To the deep wells of light ; As unto a stream we will step down, And bathe there in God's sight.
Página 2 - The wonder was not yet quite gone From that still look of hers; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years.
Página 134 - Mother^ Three days to-day, between Hell and Heaven /) * But if you have done your work aright, Sister Helen, You'll let me play, for you said I might.
Página 7 - She ceased The light thrilled towards her, fill'd With angels in strong level flight.
Página 140 - But he calls for ever on your name, Sister Helen, And says that he melts before a flame." "My heart for his pleasure fared the same, Little brother." (O Mother, Mary Mother, Fire at the heart, between Hell and Heaven!) "Here's Keith of Westholm riding fast, Sister Helen, For I know the white plume on the blast.

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