Sleep well, my dear, sleep safe and free;
The holy angels are with thee,
Who always see thy Father's face,
And never slumber nights nor days.
There was a quick movement on the bed, and Mary opened wide eyes of amazement, but she did not interrupt, and I went on singing, until, gaining confidence, my voice rang out clearly and triumphantly in the last verse—
Sleep now, my dear, and take thy rest;
And if with riper years thou'rt blest
Increase in wisdom, day and night,
Till thou attain'st th' eternal light!
For a little time there was silence in the room, when I ended, and then, with a heaving sigh, the deep voice came from the bed—
'I'm only a frail woman, though I am queen, and I need wisdom. But go on singing, child. Go on singing.'
I began a favourite hymn of Master Montgomery's, and it brought to my mind so many memories that sobs trembled in my voice, as I sang—
When my dying hour must be,
Be not absent then from me;
In that dreadful hour I pray,
Jesus, come without delay,
See and set me free!
When thou biddest me depart
Whom I cleave to with my heart,
Lover of my soul, be near,
With Thy saving Cross appear,
Show Thyself to me.
Mary lay so still when I ended that I thought she was asleep; but no, she was awake, and as I looked closely at her, I perceived that tears were slowly stealing down her face.
I fell on my knees by the bedside, but I was not kneeling to her, as she seemed to think, when opening her eyes and looking at me, she said, in a softer tone than before—
'Child, do you want something?'