She dictated Thoughts during Sickness in the intervals of sickness, when concentrated thought was possible.  Their shortness tells of the shortness of those intervals.  Who is not better for thinking over these sonnets, recalling as they do a peaceful spirit of resignation and calmness at the approach of the last hour?

             “Let others trembling bow,
     Angel of Death, before thee;—­not to those
     Whose spirits with Eternal Truth repose
     Art thou a fearful shape.  And, oh, for me,
     How full of welcome would thine aspect shine,
     Did not the cords of strong affection twine
     So fast around my soul, it cannot spring to thee.”

The last of the series is entitled a “Sabbath Sonnet.”  It was composed by Mrs. Hemans a few days before her death, and dictated to her brother.  It ends in these words—–­fit words for the last utterances of a Christian poet: 

                        “I may not tread
     With them those pathways—­to the feverish bed
     Of sickness bound; yet, O my God, I bless
     Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled
     My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled
     To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.”

But we are anticipating.  At the end of 1834 Mrs. Hemans was recommended to try change of air.  Most kindly Archbishop Whately placed at her disposal his country seat of Redesdale, where she had every comfort.  But there was a comfort she had that was not of man’s making or man’s giving.  “Far better than these indications of recovery is the sweet religious peace which I feel gradually overshadowing me with its dove-pinions, excluding all that would exclude thoughts of God.”

All around her delighted to ease her suffering and to minister to her comfort.  Especially thoughtful was her faithful attendant.  And well was that attendant repaid in hearing the words which fell from her mistress’s lips.  How bright was the testimony of the dying poetess!  “I feel like a tired child wearied, and longing to mingle with the pure in heart!  I feel as if I were sitting with Mary at the feet of my Redeemer, hearing the music of His voice, and learning of Him to be meek and lowly.”  “Oh, Anna, do not you love your kind Saviour?  The plan of redemption was indeed a glorious one; humility was indeed the crowning work.  I am like a quiet babe at His feet, and yet my spirit is full of His strength.  When anybody speaks of His love to me, I feel as if they were too slow; my spirit can mount alone with Him into those blissful realms with far more rapidity.”

XI.

“THE BETTER LAND” REACHED.