Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
The Warrior to His Dead BrideAdelaide Anne Procter (18251864)
I
And forced my foes to yield,
If conquering and unhurt I come
Back from the battle-field—
It is because thy prayers have been
My safeguard and my shield.
With the same love divine
That made thee stoop to such a soul,
So hard, so stern, as mine—
My eyes have learnt to weep, Beloved,
Since last they look’d on thine.
Thro’ the dim midnight air;
And a calm falls from the angel stars
And soothes my great despair—
The heavens themselves look brighter, Love,
Since thy sweet soul is there.