University of Virginia Library

Just as another Holy Spirit fled,
The Skies above him burst into a Bed

288

Of Angels looking down and singing clear
‘Nightingale! Nightingale! thy Rose is here!’
And yet, the Door wide open to that Bliss,
As some hot Lover slights a scanty Kiss,
The Saint cried ‘All I sigh'd for come to this?
I who life-long have struggled, Lord, to be
Not of thy Angels one, but one with Thee!’