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MARY.
259
For the strong spirit was subdued within him;
He lay as weak and helpless as a child.
And like a child his Father called him home,
So gently, that I cannot think but God
Whom he had followed from afar, yet truly.
Was gracious to his spirit at the last,
And to his evening gave a clearer light [1]
Than the long earthly day had ever known;
I sat by him one summer afternoon
While he was sleeping—there is truth in Sleep,
They say the tongue if questioned cannot choose
But answer truly, even so the face
In slumber answers truly to the soul;
And upon his was now no trace of hardness,
No more than on the earth of last year's snow;
And even in his half-shut eye a kindness,
And all about his mouth a look of peace;
He slumbered lightly, and I heard the words
Half murmured, "Whom have I in Heaven but Thee,
O Lord, and on the Earth is none beside Thee;
My heart and flesh are failing me, but God
Is my Soul's portion, and my strength for ever."
And fearing to awake him, I sat down
And stirred not from the window-seat that looked
On the old pleasant garden that I loved;
All in the house was quiet, for the rest
Had gone out to the milking, nothing stirred—
The old house-cat slept by me in the sunshine,
And through the open window came the sound,

  1. Zechariah xiv. 7.