Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/94

To see my queen sink lower than the brutes,
And know it was my hand had dragged her down,
And know that I had done it, I, alone ! "
Then he arose, and followed afar off.
The daylight waned, and shadows, gaunt and still,
Crept in, and darkly filled my cousins' place,
Until, for cowardice, I cried aloud.
Then Agnes came, and said that all was well,
And shared with me a sudden rain of tears,
Quick dried as thunder showers ; then, like a bird,
That sings its fluttered nestlings into rest,
She softly sang an ancient British hymn : —
" Holy Father, God most tender,
We, Thy children, cry to Thee ;
Let Thy light shine through our darkness,
Till our earth-blind eyes shall see ;
See the thread that guides our wanderings,
See the hand that holds us free.
Holy Father, hear our cry !
" Holy Father, we poor lambkins
Out of bitter woe do bleat ;
Strong men drive us o'er the mountains
Sharpest stones do pierce our feet,