A Martyr

It is over the horrible pain,
All is over the struggle and doubt,
She's asleep tho' her friends stand and weep,
She's asleep while the multitudes shout,
Not to wake to her anguish again
Not to wake until death is cast out.

Stoop, look at the beautiful face,
See the smile on the satisfied mouth,
The hands crost — she hath conquered not lost,
She hath drunk who was fevered with drouth.
She shall sleep in her safe restingplace
While the hawk spreads her wings toward the south.

She shall sleep while slow seasons are given,
While daylight and darkness go round;
Her heart is at rest in its nest;
Her body at rest in the ground:
She has travelled the long road to heaven,
She sought it and now she has found.

Will you follow the track that she trod,
Will you tread in her footsteps, my friend?
That pathway is rough but enough
Are the light and the balm that attend.
Do I tread in her steps, O my God,
Shall I joy with her joy in the end?
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