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CRUCE AND CORONA.
And then to him Corona doth repeatThe vision as she told it once before,And at another sunset time, and farAway within her own sweet island home.And while the same enthusiasm glowsAs then upon the altar of her soul.
She ceases, and the aged pilgrim speaks,In cadence slow and solemn, almost sad:"Ah! friend, young friend, whose soul with all its pow'rsThy life is shaping by that vision fair,Across whose spirit intuition tellsFew clouds of sorrow have their shadows cast,The time will come when on thy youthful headDark clouds will gather blackness,—round thy pathWill sweep in thund'ring fury,—saddest still,Will hide from thee thy Heav'nly Father's face.The deep foundations of thy faiths and hopes,Thy pow'rs of suffering, thy strength t" endure,Shall all be tried; and at this costly priceIt is at last the lesson thou shalt learn,That through the cross alone the crown is won."
Corona unto these prophetic wordsDoth list intently. When the last she hears,Her eyes, before with somewhat awe downcast,
