Doomed to mourn thee before a husband slain!”
Even as our slumber, when a flash of light
A sleeper’s eyes doth suddenly confront,
Is broken, quivering ere it dieth quite;
So fell my vision, as a beam past wont
In its excess of splendor smote my sight.
I turned to see where ’twas I had been brought,
When a voice called to me: “Climb here the hill!”
This put all other purpose from my thought,
And gave such eagerness unto my will