The Argosy — page 61: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 A RENUNCIATION. TuRN from me thy sweet face! Give thou its radiance to some other one To whom thou shalt be as the gleam of day, Or as the healing glory of the sun, To scatter all the gloom of night away ! Turn those dear eyes of mercy far from me, For all unworthy is my soul of thee ! Turn from me thy sweet face ! Nay, hush thy pleading voice ! It smites my stricken soul, as if from Heaven There fell the music of the cherubim Upon some lonely one, from whom is riven The hope of ever joining in that hymn Whose melody no touch of sorrow knows, But sweetens all the spheres through which it flows! Oh, hush thy pleading voice! Thy garments all are white! Ere yet we part may I but kiss the hem, And, looking yet again on thy sweet face, Pray that the virtue that shall heal from them May flow, to give my darkened life a grace ; So that if e’er I to thy glory come, I may not stand by thee in sorrow dumb! Thy garments all are white! May I but kiss thy feet Ere yet we enter on our ways apart? The one to lead me to the falling night, Where thy pure tears shall never touch my heart : The other guiding thy sure steps to light ! I dare not look upon thy shining face, But for one solemn, heavenly moment’s space, Oh, let me kiss thy feet ! Stay, do I feel thy kiss Upon my neck, as low I lie in dust ? And has that wondrous love of thine stepped down From its high eminence, to give the trust That yet may add new lustre to thy crown ? And shall our feet, with thy great love new shod, Walk yet together on our way to God, Through thy forgiving kiss ? ALEXANDER LAMONT. CORNICLOO© “S$ (C©) im