A DIRGE.

Art thou lonely in thy tomb?

Art thou cold in such a gloom?

Rouse thee, then, and make me room,—

Miserere Domine!

Phantoms vex thy virgin sleep,

Nameless things around thee creep,

Yet be patient, do not weep,—

Miserere Domine!

O be faithful! O be brave!

Naught shall harm thee in thy grave;

Let the restless spirits rave,—

Miserere Domine!

When my pilgrimage is done,

When the grace of God is won,

I will come to thee, my nun,—

Miserere Domine!

Like a priest in flowing vest,

Like a pale, unbidden guest,

I will come to thee and rest,—

Miserere Domine!