Eliz monologue (Act 4) — The Saint's Tragedy

Well! I am freezing fast--I have grown of late Too weak to nurse my sick; and now this outlet, This one last thawing spring of fellow-feeling, Is choked with ice--Come, Lord, and set me free. Think me not hasty! measure not mine age, O Lord, by these my four-and-twenty winters. I have lived three lives--three lives. For fourteen years I was an idiot girl: Then I was born again; and for five years, I lived! I lived! and then I died once more;-- One day when many knights came marching by, And stole away--we'll talk no more of that. And so these four years since, I have been dead, And all my life is hid with Christ in God. Nunc igitur dimittas, Domine, servam tuam.