Convalescent.
Reading edition
"He'll come anon," the holy mother said, And kissed her death-white cheek. "Now sleep! and while We swiftly send your gallant page to seek, Let holy thoughts and dreams the time beguile!" She woke and lo! he stood 'mong those beside her bed.
She clasped his hand and whispered low. He bent Once more to hear that voice He must obey, E'en though 'twixt life and death, no choice It might him leave. She only bade him stay Nor leave her more. The lady mother gave assent.
As flowers to sun respond with blushing hues And grateful scents distil Their voiceless praise; So now as through her veins life's pulses thrill Amid the breath of flowers and wood-choirs' lays, She could, no more than they, her hymn of thanks refuse.