At last, as if one bound with green withes rose Rending the withes to rise, rose Stephen, sweat Of supreme agony victorious At dreadful cost dewing his brow; he took His wife's hand solemnly and tenderly, His port majestical compelling awe, And, with tense speech, in tones that strangely mixed The husband with the prophet, slowly said: "Farewell, Ruth, for the hour is fully come That I must hence. The burden of the Lord Is instant and oppresses me. I go, Whither I know not, but He knows, to bear Witness once more to His most worthy name. I thought that I should never preach again His gospel in those temple courts, but now Perhaps He wills even that; whatever be His purpose, unforeshown, I welcome it. "Lo, Ruth, this is the last time, for full well I know I never shall come back to thee! Come thou to me, I charge thee that, and bring Our children to their father. Always think Hereafter, 'He, that last time, charged me that!' I think my God in this has heard my prayer, And I go hence in comfort of some hope. Our children! Oh! My children! God in heaven, Have mercy! How a father pitieth His children, think of that, and pity me! A father lays them on a Father's heart; Father, I charge Thee, by Thy father's-heart, Not one be plucked from out His Father's hand! Lord Christ, see Thou to this, in session there Forever, interceding for Thine own! "Ruth, give their father's blessing to our babes; I trust that they will cheer their mother well, When I am gone, and cheer thee to the end. Their sweet unconscious voices now I hear In laugh and prattle of pathetic glee! I fain would see their faces once again, Kiss them once more, and take a last caress! But nay, I spare myself one pang; sweet babes, They are too young to know! But by and by, When they are older and will understand, Then tell them thou what I now cannot, say, 'Your father loved you, loves you, and will love Forever--that was his last word to me For you.' So, Ruth, farewell!" With first his hands, Both, placed in solemn blessing on her head, She kneeling by his knees, forth from his house Therewith went Stephen all as in a trance. With open eyes that saw not, yet with steps Guided--how, he well knew, but whither not-- In simple rapt obedience, he his way Took absently like one that walks in sleep.