By the death-cloud within the Saviour’s eye,
E’en till away the heavenly spirit pass’d,
Stood in the shadow of his agony.
O blessed faith! a guiding lamp, that hour
Was lit for woman’s heart! To her, whose dower
Is all of love and suffering from her birth,
Still hath your act a voice—through fear, through strife,
Bidding her bind each tendril of her life
To that which her deep soul hath proved of holiest worth.