Sob after sob of anguish unrepressed
And irrepressible, till, nerveless down
My cold limbs sink upon the sun-warm ground.—
Thence up aloft I gaze with yearning eyes
Into the vast and azure-flowing skies,
Far, far beyond whose airy curtains stand
The many mansions of the angel land.
There, girt with seraphs sits the mother mild,
And there in glory reigns her sinless child.
Oh, Holy One! Thy countenance benign