Gather'd in harvest to eternity.





DE PROFUNDIS.


Turn thine eyes from me, Angel of Heaven--
Read not my soul, Angel of Heaven--
Sorrow is steeping my pale cheeks with weeping,
Evermore keeping her wand on my heart,
On my cold stony heart, while the tear-fountains start
To purge it from leaven too sinful for Heaven--
Read not my soul, yet, Angel of Heaven!

Why hast thou ta'en her, Angel of Heaven?
Ta'en her so soon, Angel of Heaven?
Yearning to gain her, hast thou thus slain her
Ere sin could stain her--borne her away,
Borne her far, far away, into eternal day,
Left me alone to stay--left me to weep and pray?
Why hast thou ta'en her, Angel of Heaven?
Ta'en her so soon, Angel of Heaven?

Shines the place brighter, Angel of Heaven?
Brighter for her, Angel of Heaven?
Comes there not streaming into my dreaming,
At morning's beaming, rays more divine,