At her words, I was endowed with apprehensions new; And somewhere in my quickened consciousness, I felt the presence of her heavenly friends, And knew that there were spirits in the room. I did not doubt, nor have I doubted since, That there were loving witnesses of all The scenes enacted round that hallowed bed. Ay, and they spoke. Deep in the innermost I heard the tender words, "O! kneel my son!--" A sweet monition from my mother's lips. "Kneel! kneel!" It was the echo of a throng. "Kneel! kneel!" The gentle mandate reached my heart From depths of lofty space. It was the voice Of the Good Father. From the curtain folds, That rustled at the window, in the airs That moved with conscious pulse to passing wings, Came the same burden "Kneel!" "Kneel! kneel! O! kneel!" In tones of earnest pleading, came from lips Already pinched by death. A hundred worlds. Imposed upon my shoulders, had not bowed And crushed me to my knees with surer power. The hand that lay upon my daughter's head Then passed to mine; but still my lips were dumb. "Pray!" said the spirit of my mother. "Pray!" The word repeated, came from many lips. "Pray!" said the voice of God within my soul; While every whisper of the living air Echoed the low command. "Pray! pray! O! pray!" My dying wife entreated, while swift tears Slid to her pillow.