A Thought for a Lonely Death-Bed

If God compel thee to this destiny,
To die alone, with none beside thy bed
To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said,
And mark with tears the pulses ebb from
       thee,--
Pray then alone, "O Christ, come tenderly!
By thy forsaken Sonship in the red
Drear wine-press,--by the wilderness
       outspread,--
And the lone garden where thine agony
Fell bloody from thy brow,--by all of those
Permitted desolations, comfort mine!
No earthly friend being near me, interpose
No deathly angel 'twixt my face and thine,
But stoop thyself to gather my life's rose,
And smile away my mortal to Divine!"

--Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806-1861