Vainly did I crave permission, That my anxious, tearful vision, Might behold the land Elysian-- Forth into the unknown dark, On that broad, mysterious river, Did the hand of God, the Giver, Launch that little, fragile bark. Then my brain grew wild to madness, Changing to a sullen sadness, Tempered by no ray of gladness; And I cursed the God above, That, with Heaven all full of angels, Sounding forth their glad evangels, He should take my little dove. Then my eyelids knew no sleeping: Once my midnight watch while keeping, I had wept beyond all weeping,-- Suddenly there seemed to fall From my spiritual being, From my inward sense of seeing, Scales, as from the eyes of Paul. Heavenly gales were round me playing, Angel hands my soul were staying, And I heard a clear voice saying, “Come up hither,--come and see! O, thou sorrow-stricken mother! Unto thee, as to none other, Heaven unfolds her mystery.” God’s own Spirit seemed to move me, All the Heaven grew bright above me, All the angels seemed to love me,-- Waved their white hands as they smiled; And one, fair as Summer moonlight, Crowned with starry gems of midnight, Brought to me my angel child. Like a flower in sunshine blowing, Cheeks, and lips, and eyes were glowing,-- I could see that he was growing Fairer than the things of earth. “Thou mayst take him,” said the spirit, “Back to earth, there to inherit All the woes of mortal birth.” I had need of no advising; In divinest strength arising, All my selfishness despising,-- “Nay!” I cried; “now first I know What it is to be a mother, To give being to another Living soul, for joy or woe. “Keep him in these heavenly places, Fold him in your pure embraces, Teach him the divinest graces: I return to earth again; Not to sit and weep supinely, But to live and love divinely.” And the angels said, “Amen!” O thou holy Heaven above us! O ye angel hosts who love us! Ye alone know how to prove us, By the discipline of life,-- That we faint not in endeavor, But with cheerful courage ever Rise victorious in the strife. RECONCILIATION. God of the Granite and the Rose! Soul of the Sparrow and the Bee! The mighty tide of Being flows Through countless channels, Lord, from thee. It leaps to life in grass and flowers, Through every grade of being runs, Till from Creation’s radiant towers Its glory flames in stars and suns.