 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
53
AGNES
Agnes! Agnes! is it thus
Thou, at last, dost come to us?
From the land of balm and bloom,
Blandest airs and sweet perfume,
Where the jasmine's golden stars
Glimmer soft through emerald bars,
And the fragrant orange flowers
Fall to earth in silver showers,
Agnes! Agnes!
With thy pale hands on thy breast,
Comest thou here to take thy rest?
Thou, at last, dost come to us?
From the land of balm and bloom,
Blandest airs and sweet perfume,
Where the jasmine's golden stars
Glimmer soft through emerald bars,
And the fragrant orange flowers
Fall to earth in silver showers,
Agnes! Agnes!
With thy pale hands on thy breast,
Comest thou here to take thy rest?
Agnes! Agnes! o'er thy grave
Loud the winter winds will rave,
And the snow fall fast around,
Heaping high thy burial mound;
Yet, within its soft embrace,
Thy dear form and earnest face,
Wrapt away from burning pain,
Ne'er shall know one pang again.
Agnes! Agnes!
Nevermore shall anguish vex thee,
Nevermore shall care perplex thee.
Loud the winter winds will rave,
And the snow fall fast around,
Heaping high thy burial mound;
Yet, within its soft embrace,
Thy dear form and earnest face,
Wrapt away from burning pain,
Ne'er shall know one pang again.
Agnes! Agnes!
Nevermore shall anguish vex thee,
Nevermore shall care perplex thee.
Agnes! Agnes! wait, ah! wait
Just one moment at the gate,
Ere your pure feet enter in
Where is neither pain nor sin.
Thou art blest, but how shall we
Bear the pang of losing thee?
List! we love thee! By that word
Once thy heart of hearts was stirred.
Agnes! Agnes!
By that love we bid thee wait
Just one moment at the gate!
Just one moment at the gate,
Ere your pure feet enter in
Where is neither pain nor sin.
54
Bear the pang of losing thee?
List! we love thee! By that word
Once thy heart of hearts was stirred.
Agnes! Agnes!
By that love we bid thee wait
Just one moment at the gate!
Agnes! Agnes! No! Pass on
To the heaven that thou hast won!
By thy life of brave endeavor,
Up the heights aspiring ever,
Whence thy voice, like clarion clear,
Rang out words of lofty cheer;
By thy laboring not in vain,
By thy martyrdom of pain,
Our Saint Agnes—
From our yearning sight pass on
To the rest that thou hast won!
To the heaven that thou hast won!
By thy life of brave endeavor,
Up the heights aspiring ever,
Whence thy voice, like clarion clear,
Rang out words of lofty cheer;
By thy laboring not in vain,
By thy martyrdom of pain,
Our Saint Agnes—
From our yearning sight pass on
To the rest that thou hast won!
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |