Quick to deny me, ’neath the morning sun,—
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?
The cock crows coldly,—Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy deathly need is bitterest,
Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here—
My voice to God and angels shall attest,—
‘Because I know this man let him go clear.’”
Elizabeth Barrett.
She in her Saviour’s ranks had done