Earnestly I wished the morrow; vainly had I sought to borrow
From my Bible ease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Annore—
For a saintly, radiant matron, whom the angels name Annore
Lately wife, now wife no more.
III.
She had passed the gloomy portals, which forever hide from mortals
Spirit myst’ries, which the living are most eager to explore.
Poring o’er the sacred pages, guides to all the good for ages,
Sat I, helped by lore of sages, when the rapping at my door,
Startled me as if a spirit had come to my chamber-door,