And, staring out at us with all their blue, As half perplexed between the angelhood He had been away to visit in his sleep, And our most mortal presence, gradually He saw his mother's face, accepting it In change for heaven itself with such a smile As might have well been learnt there,— never moved, But smiled on, in a drowse of ecstasy, So happy (half with her and half with heaven) He could not have the trouble to be stirred, But smiled and lay there. Like a rose, I said; As red and still indeed as any rose, That blows in all the silence of its leaves, Content in blowing to fulfil its life. |