Volume 3 — THE MARTYR.
Reading edition
Serene above the world he stands, Uplift to heaven on wings of prayer: Across his breast his folded hands Recall the cross he loved to bear. Upon his upturned brow the light Flows like the smile of God: he sees A flash of wings that daze his sight, He hears seraphic melodies. In vain the cruel crowd may roar, In vain the cruel flames may hiss: Like seas that lash a distant shore, They faintly pierce his sphering bliss. He hears them, and he does not hear-- His fleshly bonds are loosened all-- No earthly sound can claim the ear That listens for his Father's call. It comes--and swift the spirit spurns, His quivering lips and soars away; The blind crowd roars, the blind fire burns, While God receives their fancied prey. D. A. C.
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