As pure and sweet, her fair brow seemed Eternal as the sky; And like the brook's low song, her voice,-- A sound which could not die. And half we deemed she needed not The changing of her sphere, To give to Heaven a Shining One, Who walked an Angel here. The blessing of her quiet life Fell on us like the dew; And good thoughts where her footsteps pressed Like fairy blossoms grew. Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds Were in her very look; We read her face, as one who reads A true and holy book, The measure of a blessed hymn, To which our hearts could move; The breathing of an inward psalm, A canticle of love. We miss her in the place of prayer, And by the hearth-fire's light; We pause beside her door to hear Once more her sweet "Good-night!" There seems a shadow on the day, Her smile no longer cheers; A dimness on the stars of night, Like eyes that look through tears. Alone unto our Father's will One thought hath reconciled; That He whose love exceedeth ours Hath taken home His child. Fold her, O Father! in Thine arms, And let her henceforth be A messenger of love between Our human hearts and Thee. Still let her mild rebuking stand Between us and the wrong, And her dear memory serve to make Our faith in Goodness strong. And grant that she who, trembling, here Distrusted all her powers, May welcome to her holier home The well-beloved of ours. 1845. TO RONGE. This was written after reading the powerful and manly protest of Johannes Ronge against the "pious fraud" of the Bishop of Treves. The bold movement of the young Catholic priest of Prussian Silesia seemed to me full of promise to the cause of political as well as religious liberty in Europe. That it failed was due partly to the faults of the reformer, but mainly to the disagreement of the Liberals of Germany upon a matter of dogma, which prevented them from unity of action. Rouge was born in Silesia in 1813 and died in October, 1887. His autobiography was translated into English and published in London in 1846.