Judgment

A Dead soul lay in the light of day,   Desperate, wan, it had passed; Oft foiled, it had toiled on its upward way,   Till it perished, spent, aghast, After a thousand defeats the prey   Of its conquering sin at last. Said a stranger:—“Lo, how in shame and woe   Is Satan’s seal ever set!” Laughed a foe:—“Doth the carrion lie so low?   Death and a coward well met.” Said a friend:—“His strength was great, I know,   But his weakness was stronger yet.” Moaned his love unwed:—“Peace to the dead;   And as God shall forgive—let be!” But an angel spread o’er the prostrate head   His wings in humility; As he gazed:—“Be praised, great God,” he said,   “For a glorious victory!”