But I’ve robbed you—you
Who loved him also; though to me was due
This love of his; at least—
The Lady.
Sweet doubter, yes;
I grant thee all. But, as I kneel, O bless
This heart that bows before thee; all its sin—
If it be sin—forgive; and take, within
Thy pure love, me, thy sister, who must live
Long years—long years! O child, who dost forgive
More than thou knowest, lay thy sister-hand
In blessing!
The Maiden.
Though I do not understand,
Yet will I thus content thee: Now the Lord
Bless thee, and keep thee by his holy word;
Be gracious to thee, that thy faith increase;
Lift up his countenance, and give thee peace,
Now and forever!
The Lady.
Amen. May it prove—
This peace—what thou dost think it.
The Maiden.
I must go;
The horses wait for me. Now that I know
He’s safe with God, the living claim my care.—
My mother—ah, full selfish was the love
That made me leave her so; I could despair
Of mine own self, if God were not so good,
Long-suffering, and kind.
O could I stay!
But I must reach the train at break of day.
I take my letters and the picture.—Should
Your duties call you not so soon, oh wait,
See his dear head laid low by careful hand,
And say a prayer above the grave.