[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]


HALF-MAST the flag by sweet St. Mary's shore,
Half-mast the schooner in Port Erin bay
Death has been with us in the night, of prey
Insatiate from a fold thrice robbed before;
And now he climbs to me upon the hoar
And ruinous rock, and shrouds the gladsome day
With sullen gloom, nor any word will say
That might to strength my sinking heart restore.
Speak, Death, O, speak! What high command restrains
The dark disclosure ? Is it thine own will
Thou workest, I adjure thee, shape of fear ?
Then from the awful face a shadow wanes,
And, clad in robes of light unspeakable,
God's loveliest angel sits beside me here.


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