Judgment

A dead soul lay in the light of day,
Desperate, wan, it had passed;
Oft foiled, it had toiled on its upward way,
Till it perished, spent, aghast,
After a thousand defeats the prey
Of its conquering sin at last.

Said a stranger:—"Lo, how in shame and woe
Is Satan's seal ever set!"
Laughed a foe:—"Doth the carrion lie so low?
Death and a coward well met."
Said a friend:—"His strength was great, I know,
But his weakness was stronger yet."

Moaned his love unwed:—"Peace to the dead;
And as God shall forgive—let be!"
But an angel spread o'er the prostrate head
His wings in humility;
As he gazed:—"Be praised, great God," he said,
"For a glorious victory!"