Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/102

" I think we have not been impatient, Lord,
We know Thou lovest us, and we love Thee :
We hold up chained hands before Thee, Lord,
And only wonder when they will be free.

" A little happiness, good Lord, dear Lord,
If only for a moment ere we die ;
Life is so short, yet seems so long with pain,
' A moment's bliss ' is all our longing cry ' —:

She ceased, with catching breath, and cried, " The tree !"
Before the house there stood a mountain ash,
Which some far-distant Prynne had brought to share
The changes in the family estate.
Though bent and scarred with age and evil times,
It still upreared its wand-like spears of leaves,
That shimmered silver in the fitful light.

The storm, returning, had seized hold of this,
'Twas bowed and quivering like a foundering ship,
With mutinous leaves, that whispered cheek on cheek,
How they would help the wrecking wind this night.