XXVI.—Requital.
Loud roared the Tempest,1
Fast fell the sleet ;2
A little Child Angel3
Passed down the street,4
With trailing pinions,5
And weary feet.6
The moon was hidden,7
No stars were bright,8
So she could not shelter9
In heaven that night,10
For the Angels’ ladders11
Are rays of light.12
She beat her wings13
At each window pane,14
And pleaded for shelter,15
But all in vain :16
“ Listen,” they said,17
“ To the pelting rain !”18
She sobbed, as the laughter19
And mirth grew higher,20
“ Give me rest and shelter21
Beside your fire,22
And I will give you23
Your heart’s desire !”24
The dreamer sat watching25
His embers’ gleam,26
While his heart was floating27
Down hope’s bright stream ;28
.... So he wove her wailing29
Into his dream.30
The worker toiled on,31
For his time was brief ;32
The mourner was nursing33
Her own pale grief :34
They heard not the promise35
That brought relief.36
But fiercer the Tempest37
Rose than before,38
When the Angel paused39
At a humble door40
And asked for refuge41
And help once more.42
A weary woman,43
Pale, worn and thin,44
With the brand upon her45
Of want and sin,46
Heard the Child Angel47
And took her in.48
Took her in gently,49
And did her best50
To dry her pinions ;51
And made her rest52
With tender pity53
Upon her breast.54
When the eastern morning55
Grew bright and red,56
Up the first sunbeam57
The Angel fled ;58
Having kissed the woman59
And left her—dead.60