SHE rose from her untroubled sleep, And put away her soft brown hair, And, in a tone as low and deep As love's first whisper, breathed a prayer -- Her snow-white hands together press'd, Her blue eyes shelter'd in the lid, The folded linen on her breast Just swelling with the charms it hid; And from her long and flowing dress Escaped a bare and slender foot, Whose shape upon the earth did press Like a new snow-flake, white and "mute;" And there, from slumber pure and warm, Like a young spirit fresh from heaven, She bow'd her slight and graceful form, And humbly pray'd to be forgiven. Oh God! if souls unsoil'd as these Need daily mercy from thy throne -- If she upon her bended knees -- Our loveliest and our purest one -- She, with a face so clear and bright We deem her some stray child of light -- If she, with those soft eyes in tears, Day after day in her first years, Must kneel and pray for grace from thee -- What far, far deeper need have we? How hardly, if she win not heaven, Will @3our@1 wild errors be forgiven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CROSS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WOMAN'S INCONSTANCY by ROBERT AYTON ON THE DEPARTURE PLATFORM by THOMAS HARDY EVOLUTION by JOHN BANISTER TABB THE VOICE OF THE RAIN by WALT WHITMAN A SATIRE [OR, SATYR] AGAINST MANKIND by JOHN WILMOT |