CHRISTINA.
7
Then doth prevailing prayer hold back awhile
The edge of torment, and the lost have rest.
So then, perchance, some gracious spirit wept,
And prayed for sinners, for the voices died,
The wailing ones, the mocking, at my heart;
And through the hush came up a wish, a yearning—
I know not where it took me—not to heaven,—
Yet, had I ever prayed, it had been then;
I sought not death, for that were but a change
Of being, and a passage to a world
Where thought would after me to hunt and vex,
But to cease utterly to be, to find
A place among the rocks, among the stones,
With things that lived not, that would never live.
To pass absorbed, and be at rest for ever.
So stood I, holding in that trance the flowers,
A wreath of white Immortelles, that as yet
I hung not on the gravestone, when I heard
A sudden step, and was aware that one
Had come upon me in the gloom; I felt
A grasp upon my arm, detaining kindly,
A hand that sought to fold itself in mine:
Before she spoke, I knew it was Christina.
"And who art thou, with charitable hand
Such kindness showing to the dead, the living?
Now let me look upon thy face, for long
My soul hath deemed of thee as of the angels
That come and go unseen, and only traced
By deeds that show some gracious Presence near;
Yet, surely thou art one whom earth hath taught
The edge of torment, and the lost have rest.
So then, perchance, some gracious spirit wept,
And prayed for sinners, for the voices died,
The wailing ones, the mocking, at my heart;
And through the hush came up a wish, a yearning—
I know not where it took me—not to heaven,—
Yet, had I ever prayed, it had been then;
I sought not death, for that were but a change
Of being, and a passage to a world
Where thought would after me to hunt and vex,
But to cease utterly to be, to find
A place among the rocks, among the stones,
With things that lived not, that would never live.
To pass absorbed, and be at rest for ever.
So stood I, holding in that trance the flowers,
A wreath of white Immortelles, that as yet
I hung not on the gravestone, when I heard
A sudden step, and was aware that one
Had come upon me in the gloom; I felt
A grasp upon my arm, detaining kindly,
A hand that sought to fold itself in mine:
Before she spoke, I knew it was Christina.
"And who art thou, with charitable hand
Such kindness showing to the dead, the living?
Now let me look upon thy face, for long
My soul hath deemed of thee as of the angels
That come and go unseen, and only traced
By deeds that show some gracious Presence near;
Yet, surely thou art one whom earth hath taught
