178
CRUCE AND CORONA.
My crown on earth, and herald of my crownIn heav'n. The thoughts of beauty in my soulShall find expression there, denied them here.My work is over. Sundered ev'ry tieThat bound me here. While from my spirit's depthsThere comes a sad beseeching cry for rest,That God alone can answer, God alone,Across the lands and seas that lie betweenI call to thee, my friend, my sister, come."
Then gently as descend the dews of heav'nThe pilgrim's words do to her spirit come:"And then at eventide it shall be light."And softly to herself she murmurs low,"A little longer, O my weary soul!A little longer, and the night shall break,And o'er thee, in its holy splendor, streamThe calm, eternal light of heaven's dawn."
VI.
The sun shines bright within the western heav'ns,Its glory resting on a vine-wreathed bow'r;And lights and shadows, quivering within,Surround Corona. On her snowy browA crown of sunbeams dropped 'tween leaves above,
