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THE ENGLISH MARTYRS.
To dwell, in that imperishable bond
Before thee linked, for ever. Hear, through Him
Who meekly drank the cup of agony,
Who passed through death to victory, hear and save!
Pity us, Father! we are girt with snares;
Father in Heaven! we have no help but thee.
[They rise.
Is thy soul strengthened, my beloved one?
O Edith! couldst thou lift up thy sweet voice,
And sing me that old solemn-breathing hymn
We loved in happier days—the strain which tells
Of the dread conflict in the olive shade?
[She sings.
He knelt, the Saviour knelt and pray'd,
When but his Father's eye
Look'd through the lonely garden's shade
On that dread agony;
The Lord of All above, beneath,
Was bow'd with sorrow unto death.
