The Angel of Agony
Kneeling alone in the garden shade,
Bedewed with blood; drops fall to
Thy bed of green earth, pleading with Him
For all tormented souls, the dying and the dead.
Until that Beatific Vision,
Thou art blind; for even in Spirit
Thy purgatory, which comes like fire,
Is fire without its light, fight in desperation
The war to uphold His Wisdom.
The Angel sweetly Caresses,
In her arms: carefully dipping thee
In the lake, without a sob, through the flood
Thy rapid passage take, sinking deep,
Deeper into the dim distance, whereupon
Yellow light flickers,
Thee reawakened with forgiveness.