Eliz monologue (Act 3) — The Saint's Tragedy

I thank thee, gracious Lord, who hast fulfilled Thine handmaid's mighty longings with the sight Of my beloved's bones, and dost vouchsafe This consolation to the desolate. I grudge not, Lord, the victim which we gave Thee, Both he and I, of his most precious life, To aid Thine holy city: though Thou knowest His sweetest presence was to this world's joy As sunlight to the taper--Oh! hadst Thou spared-- Had Thy great mercy let us, hand in hand, Have toiled through houseless shame, on beggar's dole, I had been blest: Thou hast him, Lord, Thou hast him-- Do with us what Thou wilt! If at the price Of this one silly hair, in spite of Thee, I could reclothe these wan bones with his manhood, And clasp to my shrunk heart my hero's self-- I would not give it! I will weep no more-- Lead on, most holy; on the sepulchre Which stands beside the choir, lay down your burden.