Be still, be firm—for all is vain!”
And she was still. She heard him not—
Her prayers were hush’d, her pangs forgot;
All thought, all memory pass’d away,
Silent and motionless she lay,
In a brief death, a blest suspense
Alike of agony and sense.
She saw not when the dagger gleam’d
In the last red light from the west that stream’d;
She mark’d not when the life-blood’s flow