“TREES OF RIGHTEOUSNESS”

HAINED to the dungeon-wall she slept.
Rome, moonlit, revelled overhead.
She heard not. She had prayed and wept,
Haggard with anguish, wild with dread.

She was too fair, too young to die;
Life was too sweet, and home too dear!
God touch’d her with His sleep: a sigh —
And she had ceased to weep or fear !

She slept, and, sleeping, seemed awake :
A fair Child held her virgin hand ;
They walk’d by an enchanted lake ;
They walk’d in a celestial land.
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