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1863–1946

PRISON

Violet Jacob

In the prison-house of the dark I lay with open eyes, And pale beyond the pale windows I saw the dawn rise.

From past the bounds of space Where earthly vapours climb, There stirred the voice I shall not hear On this side Time.

There is one death for the body, And one death for the heart, And one prayer for the hope of the end, When some links part.

Christ, from uncounted leagues, Beyond the sun and moon, Strike with the sword of Thine own pity — Bring the dawn soon.

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PRISON · Violet Jacob · Poetry Cove