Who is this? An almoner By the lovely stoop of her, By her smiling, by her quick Footstep as she sought the sick. 'Tis a lovely almoner. But I ask not speech with her; I am going to my grave-bed, Something from my heart there smote - Coins for Charon's ferry-boat, Coins, give me coins for my dead." Fiercely did I press my tolls, And the figure changed its pace, Drew a veil across the face, Left me with my pagan-tongue: And a whispering came along - I am Mary of the Holy Souls. |