“Surely,” thought they, “such is the expression the blessed will wear in heaven.”
And then, in their presence, Dunstan administered the Blessed Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ to the happy penitent; it was the first Communion which he had willingly made since he first left home, a bright happy boy of fifteen; and words would fail to describe the deep faith and loving penitence with which he gathered his dying strength to receive the Holy Mysteries.
And then Dunstan administered the last of all earthly rites—the holy anointing;[xxxiii] while amidst their tears the mourners yet thought of Him Who vouchsafed to be anointed before He sanctified the grave to be a bed of hope to His people.
“Art thou happy now, my son?” said Dunstan, when all was over.
“Happy indeed! happy! yes, so happy!”
They were almost the last words he said, until an hour had passed and the sun had set, leaving the bright clouds suffused in rich purple, when he sat up in the bed.
“Mother! Alfred!” he said, “do you hear that music? Many are singing; surely that was father’s voice. Oh! how bright!”
He fell back, and Dunstan began the solemn commendatory prayer, for he saw the last moment was come.
“Go forth, O Christian soul, from this world, in the name of God the Father Who hath created thee, of God the Son Who hath redeemed thee, of God the Holy Ghost Who hath been poured out upon thee; and may thy abode be this day in peace, in the heavenly Sion, through Jesus Christ thy Lord.”
It was over! Over that brief but eventful life! Over all the bright hopes which had centred on him in this world; but the battle was won, and the eternal victory gained.