To a Lady, LVII

And I had wept—but had no tears! I had denied him many years! And ’twas the second death, I trow, To look upon that Saviour now, And think, what I on earth had done, To pierce afresh that Holy One I yearn’d to think ’twas all a dream! But no—I see him there! I strove to waken with a scream, But voices mock’d in air: I strove to cry—I yearn’d to pray: And a voice broke in on my wild dismay, Go—go, poor creature, begone for aye! And a demon laugh ha-ha’d away.