As Eponina brought, to move the king In the old day, her children of the tomb, Begotten and brought forth in charnel gloom To plead a father's cause, so I too bring Unto thy feet, my Maker, tearfully, These offspring of my sorrow, hidden long And scarcely able to abide the light. May their deep cry, inaudible, come to Thee Clear through the cloud of words, the sobs of song, And sharper than that other's pierce thine ears: That so each thought, aim, utterance, dark or bright, May find thy pardoning love more blest than she Who joyful passed with them to death and night, With whom she had been buried nine long years. |