Into God’s urn thy fingers dip,
And lay, ’mid eucharistic sighs,
The sacred wafer on the lip.
13. This night the Absolver issues forth:
This night the Eternal Victim bleeds:
O winds and woods—O heaven and earth!
Be still this night. The Rite proceeds!
LII.—DEATH OF LITTLE NELL.
DICKENS.
1. By little and little, the old man had drawn back towards the inner chamber. He pointed there, as he replied, with trembling lips, “You plot among you to wean my heart from her. You will never do that—never while I have life. I have no relative or friend but her—I never had—I never will have. She is all in all to me. It is too late to part us now.”