XXXI

'And miss the way to heaven!' My closing word
Is a reproachful echo in my ear;
And filled with trouble and an anxious fear
Lest in thy faultless presence should be heard
My shameful figure of the stooping bird--
Through my repentance, let the truth shine clear.
Can I miss that to which I draw so near?
Rather before my prayerful breath had stirred
God's ready ear, my gratitude had gained
A surer answer by a shorter way
Than souls oft travel in this masking clay;
For ere the fervor of my spirit waned,
That heaven to which I only meant to pray,
Through thee, fair vision, was a heaven attained.