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Prayer.
Till through the cloaking dark a sword of light
Flashed suddenly. Then over and around,
There shined the brightness of ten thousand suns
All concentrate, and her scared spirit stood
In the full courts of heaven! She might not look
On its great glory, but the Seraphim
That leant upon their harps, forever there
Turned with bright solemn faces, lost, transfused
Into one rapturous thought. She only saw
How all the assembled prayers of all the worlds
Entreated, silent. Various their guise;
Some with pure eyes uplift, that dared to look
Straight on Divinity, and some with dust
On their pale foreheads. There were infant prayers
Crowned with faint halos; saintly prayers, that might,
But for some traces of forgotten tears,
Have swelled the ranks of Heaven. While yet she looked,
On the pale shore of light there stood a Form
Forlorn, close mantled, that with tottering steps
Drew nearer. Hers! she knew it well! her heart
Shrank with a deadly fear. Oh God! the prayer
Flashed suddenly. Then over and around,
There shined the brightness of ten thousand suns
All concentrate, and her scared spirit stood
In the full courts of heaven! She might not look
On its great glory, but the Seraphim
That leant upon their harps, forever there
Turned with bright solemn faces, lost, transfused
Into one rapturous thought. She only saw
How all the assembled prayers of all the worlds
Entreated, silent. Various their guise;
Some with pure eyes uplift, that dared to look
Straight on Divinity, and some with dust
On their pale foreheads. There were infant prayers
Crowned with faint halos; saintly prayers, that might,
But for some traces of forgotten tears,
Have swelled the ranks of Heaven. While yet she looked,
On the pale shore of light there stood a Form
Forlorn, close mantled, that with tottering steps
Drew nearer. Hers! she knew it well! her heart
Shrank with a deadly fear. Oh God! the prayer
