A Thought for a Lonely Death-Bed
IF God compel thee to this destiny,To die alone, with none beside thy bedTo ruffle round with sobs thy last word saidAnd mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee,--Pray then alone, ' O Christ, come tenderly !By thy forsaken Sonship in the redDrear wine-press,--by the wilderness out-spread,--And the lone garden where thine agonyFell bloody from thy brow,--by all of thosePermitted desolations, comfort mine !No earthly friend being near me, interposeNo deathly angel 'twixt my face aud thine,But stoop Thyself to gather my life's rose,And smile away my mortal to Divine !
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