Nor yet in vain. For to him through the rout <br />Behold, 'mid herald whispers of her name <br />And laughing eyes and welcome hands held out, <br />Natalia's self behind her husband came, <br />Her face arrayed in smiles, as who should say <br />She held a secret string of happiness <br />Joined to her heart grief could not take away. <br />And Adrian gazed at her in rapturous bliss, <br />Knowing his love had triumphed o'er the grave <br />And she at last was his, a heritage <br />For ever for his heart to hold and have, <br />In spite of change and death's untimely rage <br />And the long tempest of forgotten tears, <br />The pain, the anger and the grief of years.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/natalia-s-resurrection-sonnet-xvii/
