Now while her spirit weightless overwingeth
Night, to that Throne whose seeing heals all shame!
For her I did! but oh, for you, whose least
Murmur to me is infinite with Spring,
Whose smile is light, filling the air with dawn,
Whose touch, wafture of immortality
Unto my weariness; and whose eyes, now,
Are as the beams God lifted first, they tell us,
Over the uncreated,
In the far singing mother-dawn of the world!—
Come with me then, but tearless, to her side.
[They go to the bier and stand as in a dream. A pause, then her lips move, last, as if inspired.
While there is sin to sway the soul and sink it,
Pity should be as strong as love or death!
[With a cry of joy he enfolds her, and they kneel, wrapped about with the clear moon.
THE END
Transcriber's Notes:
Minor typesetting inconsistencies of italics and smallcap words and punctuation have been corrected without comment.
All stage directions have been uniformly formatted to a left uniform indent instead of a right page margin.
Spelling corrections:
Page 3, "aamask" to "damask" (hung with heavy damask).
Page 110, "violenc" to "violence" (she your cold violence).
Page 112, "Caramin" to "Camarin" (84) (as Camarin takes).