Of Ella's shining hair!

"We halt, like one with tired wings,
And we would fain forget
That there are tempting, maddening things
Too high to clutch at yet!

"Though seven Springs have filled the Wood
With pleasant hints and signs,
Since faltering feet went forth and stood
With Death amongst the pines."

From point to point unwittingly
We wish to clamber still,
Till we have light enough to see
The summits of the hill.

"O do not cry, my sister dear,"
Said beaming Hope to Love,
"Though we have been so troubled here
The Land is calm above;

"Beyond the regions of the storm
We'll find the golden gates,
Where, all the day, a radiant Form,
Our Ella, sits and waits."

And Memory murmured: "She was one
Of God's own darlings lent;
And Angels wept that she had gone,