Poems by Marietta Holley
page 57 of 153 (37%)
page 57 of 153 (37%)
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From gate ajar, the bright and pearly gate
Swung widely open for an angel guest. A faithful servant climbed the winding stair, Sent by her eager father with the dawn To rouse her, tell her that the hour had come When she to save his name should leave the world. And as the woman stood beside the couch She said, "Sweet soul, she talks out in her sleep." For there she lay with closed eyes murmuring low, With mournful brow and sad lips, "oh, dear love." Then cried out with a sob, "'tis not a dream." Then spake of blood-red blossoms, bitter, sweet, And with her white lips sighing this, she sunk Into what seemed to be a dreamless sleep. And as the loving servant weeping stood, Loath to awake her to her evil doom, She opened her large violet eyes, and gazed Upon the morning sunlight stealing in; The clear light trembling, growing on the wall, And as she looked, her eyes grew like the eyes Of blessed angels looking on their Lord. And high toward Heaven she lifted up her hands, Then clasped them in content upon her breast, And cried out in a glad voice, "oh, my heart!" And with such glory lighting up her face, As if the flood of joy had filled her heart, And overrun her lips with blissful smiles She left the world, and saved her sire from shame. |
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