Then they sat
Resting with silence, the soul’s inward sleep,
Which feedeth it with strength; till gradually
They grew aware of light, that overcame
The light within, and through the dingy blind,
Cast from the window-frame, two shadow-glooms
That made a cross of darkness on the white,
Dark messenger of light itself unseen. 
The woman rose, and half she put aside
The veil that hid the whole of glorious night;
And lo! a wind had mowed the earth-sprung fog;
And lo! on high the white exultant moon
From clear blue window curtained all with white,
Greeted them, at their shadowy window low,
With quiet smile; for two things made her glad: 
One that she saw the glory of the sun;
For while the earth lay all athirst for light,
She drank the fountain-waves.  The other joy;
Sprung from herself:  she fought the darkness well,
Thinning the great cone-shadow of the earth,
Paling its ebon hue with radiant showers
Upon its sloping side.  The woman said,
With hopeful look:  “To-morrow will be bright
With sunshine for our holiday—­to-morrow—­
Think! we shall see the green fields in the sun.” 
So with hearts hoping for a simple joy,
Yet high withal, being no less than the sun,
They laid them down in nightly death that waits
Patiently for the day.

That sun was high
When they awoke at length.  The moon, low down,
Had almost vanished, clothed upon with light;
And night was swallowed up of day.  In haste,
Chiding their weariness that leagued with sleep,
They, having clothed themselves in clean attire,
By the low door, stooping with priestly hearts,
Entered God’s vision-room, his wonder-world.

One side the street, the windows all were moons
To light the other that in shadow lay. 
The path was almost dry; the wind asleep. 
And down the sunny side a woman came
In a red cloak that made the whole street glad—­
Fit clothing, though she was so feeble and old;
For when they stopped and asked her how she fared,
She said with cheerful words, and smile that owed
None of its sweetness to an ivory lining: 
“I’m always better in the open air.” 
“Dear heart!” said they, “how freely she will breathe
In the open air of heaven!” She stood in the morn
Like a belated autumn-flower in spring,
Dazed by the rushing of the new-born life
Up the earth’s winding cavern-stairs to see
Through window-buds the calling, waking sun. 
Or as in dreams we meet the ghost of one
Beloved in youth, who walketh with few words,
And they are of the past.  Yet, joy to her! 
She too from earthy grave was climbing up
Unto the spirit-windows high and far,
She the new life for a celestial spring,
Answering the light that shineth evermore.