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11/27/2009 1:39:07 AM
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Oh grieve not with thy bitter tears The life that passes fast; The gates of heaven will open wide And take me in at last. Then sit down meekly at my side And watch my young life flee; Then solemn peace of holy death Come quickly unto thee. But true love, seek me in the throng Of spirits floating past, And I will take thee by the hands And know thee mine at last. He and She and Angels Three Ruthless hands have torn her From one that loved her well; Angels have upborn her, Christ her grief to tell. She shall stand to listen, She shall stand and sing, Till three winged angels Her lover’s soul shall bring. He and she and the angels three Before God’s face shall stand; There they shall pray among themselves And sing at His right hand. Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
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