SEA SPRAY &> SMOKE DRIFT 



" Nay, certes ! a sinful life I've led, 

 Yet I've suffer'd, and lived in hope ; 



I may suffer still, but my hope has fled, — 



IVe nothing now to hope or to dread, 

 And with fate I can fairly cope ; 



Were the waters closing over my head, 

 I should scarcely catch at a rope." 



** Dost suffer ? thy pain may be fraught with 

 grace, 



Since never by works alone 

 We are saved ; — the penitent thief may trace 

 The wealth of love in the Saviour's face 



To the Pharisee rarely shown ; 

 And the Magdalene's arms may yet embrace 



The foot of the jasper throne." 



** Sir priest, a heavier doom I dree. 



For I feel no quickening pain, 

 But a dull, dumb weight, when I bow my 



knee, 

 And (not with the words of the Pharisee) 



My hard eyes heavenward strain, 



Where my dead darling prayeth for me ! 



Now, I wot, she prayeth in vain ! 



88 



