22 OCTOBER 1898, Page 24

My rocky cell is rude and bare, Yet when at

eve the hour of prayer Draws round, it somehow grows to me Like that dear Home of Bethany, Where Christ of old would sit at meat With Mary listening at His Feet. And banish loneliness and gloom.

A light shines round me as I pray ; My cell, the world all fade away; In silent awe I raise my eyes

And gaze into God's Paradise.

I hear angelic music swell, I see the fields of asphodel,

The gates of pearl, and ramparts bright With sapphire stone and chrysolite;.

And Angel faces grave and sweet Look into mine. I feel the beat Of silver wings. I seem to feel

Christ's Hand in blessing as I kneel-

It is as though my spirit trod The very table-lands of God, And saw the Vision that makes blest, Like him who leaned on Jesus' breast..