Here you will find the Poem Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XXIII of poet Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
But, when the church was hushed in the night wind, And all were gone who might his zeal disclaim, Or hinder the firm purpose of his mind, A silent man among the tombs he came, Stooping to listen if so be some sound Of living thing with speech or power to breathe Should issuant be from the dark underground,-- And last to hers. There on that home of death He kneeled him down and called aloud to her, ``Natalia, O Natalia, my beloved, Am I not here thy soul's petitioner Whom thou so lovedst?'' And around him moved The phantoms of the night. And the wind's sigh Answered his prayer, ``Beloved, it is I.''
