The poison draught entered her blood;
In brightness of Spring's early day Sister St. Thomas bowed her head,
And passed from her labors for aye.
I know that 'yond the swelling surge,
She reached that tideless, tranquil shore, Where faith finds anchor nigh its source,
And storms of time are heard no more.
I know that robed in spotless white,
Her pure soul on Mount Zion stands; And yet I see her as she sat
With satchel in her willing hands.
Ho, peerless crown! Ho, fadeless palm!
Bright land where ransomed spirits be! True love to God with love to man,
Ensures a blessed eternity.
THE MESSAGE.
Ye sweet summer birds! in your flight
Afar o'er the southern sea, Will ye stoop from your aerified height
To whisper my lover of me?
Again will ye hoist your bright wing
When ice-fields unloose from our shore; New tunes through the woodlands shall ring;—
Those tones! shall I hear never more?
Remind him that low in the sky
Sails the god of the long summer day; That later the glory-glints hie
From their couch, with its curtains of gray.
Yet—tell him through nature's vast range,
Reaped harvests, ripe forests aflame;— Oh! tell him, through oceans of change,
I'll love him forever, the same.