“But I may not enter there,” she said,
      “For I must go
  Across the gulf where the guilty dead
      Lie in their woe:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “If I enter heaven I may not pass
      To where they be,
  Though the wail of their bitter pain, alas! 
      Tormenteth me:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “If I enter heaven I may not speak
      My soul’s desire
  For them that are lying distraught and weak
      In flaming fire:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “I had a brother, and also another
      Whom I loved well;
  What if, in anguish, they curse each other
      In the depths of hell?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “How could I touch the golden harps,
      When all my praise
  Would be so wrought with grief-full warps
      Of their sad days?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “How love the loved who are sorrowing,
      And yet be glad? 
  How sing the songs ye are fain to sing,
      While I am sad?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Oh, clear as glass in the golden street
      Of the city fair,
  And the tree of life it maketh sweet
      The lightsome air:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “And the white-robed saints with their crowns and palms
      Are good to see,
  And oh, so grand are the sounding psalms! 
      But not for me:” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “I come where there is no night,” she said,
      “To go away,
  And help, if I yet may help, the dead
      That have no day.” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  Saint Peter he turned the keys about,
      And answered grim: 
  “Can you love the Lord and abide without,
      Afar from Him?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Can you love the Lord who died for you,
      And leave the place
  Where His glory is all disclosed to view,
      And tender grace?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “They go not out who come in here;
      It were not meet: 
  Nothing they lack, for He is here,
      And bliss complete.” 
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Should I be nearer Christ,” she said,
      “By pitying less
  The sinful living or woful dead
      In their helplessness?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Should I be liker Christ were I
      To love no more
  The loved, who in their anguish lie
      Outside the door?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Did He not hang on the cursed tree,
      And bear its shame,
  And clasp to His heart, for love of me,
      My guilt and blame?”
  And the angels all were silent.

  “Should I be liker, nearer Him,
      Forgetting this,
  Singing all day with the Seraphim,
      In selfish bliss?”
  And the angels all were silent.