CHRISTINA.
15
Within thy bosom." Then Christina turned
Once more beneath the lamp, and smiled farewell;—
Smiled as if then the sweetness of her soul
Rose to her very lips and overflowed them,
But spoke not: passing swiftly through the porch,
The darkness took her from me.
Once more beneath the lamp, and smiled farewell;—
Smiled as if then the sweetness of her soul
Rose to her very lips and overflowed them,
But spoke not: passing swiftly through the porch,
The darkness took her from me.
That same night
I left the guilty city far behind me;
Thou knowest. Father, of my life since then.
Here have I found the place Christina spoke of,—
A goodly inn, where they have cared for me,
These gracious souls, who loving so their Lord,
And covetous for Him, upon the coin
Long-lost, defaced, and soiled, could trace His image
And read His superscription, half out-worn,—
Soon must I leave it for a surer refuge.
I sent Christina long ago a token,
To tell her it was well with me, and now
Fain would I send this other one, a sign
From Him that loved me in the heavens, to her
That loved so true on earth. When I am gone,
Kind Father, to my rest, take thou this cross.
Take it to her that I have told thee of—
Unto Christina.
I left the guilty city far behind me;
Thou knowest. Father, of my life since then.
Here have I found the place Christina spoke of,—
A goodly inn, where they have cared for me,
These gracious souls, who loving so their Lord,
And covetous for Him, upon the coin
Long-lost, defaced, and soiled, could trace His image
And read His superscription, half out-worn,—
Soon must I leave it for a surer refuge.
I sent Christina long ago a token,
To tell her it was well with me, and now
Fain would I send this other one, a sign
From Him that loved me in the heavens, to her
That loved so true on earth. When I am gone,
Kind Father, to my rest, take thou this cross.
Take it to her that I have told thee of—
Unto Christina.
1851.
