A little pause in life, while daylight lingers
Between the sunset and the pale moonrise,
When daily labour slips from weary fingers,
And soft grey shadows veil the aching eyes.
Old perfumes wander back from fields of clover
Seen in the light of suns that long have set;
Beloved ones, whose earthly toil is over,
Draw near, as if they lived among us yet.
Old voices call me, through the dusk returning,
I hear the echoes of departed feet; —
And then I ask, with vain and troubled yearning.
What is the charm that makes old things so sweet?
Must the old joys be evermore withholden?
Even their memory keeps me pure and true;
And yet, from out Jerusalem the Golden
God speaketh, saying, " I make all things new."
"Father," I cry, "the old must still be nearer;
Stifle my love, or give me back the past!
Give me the fair old earth, whose paths are dearer
Than all Thy shining streets, and mansions vast"
Peace, peace, — the Lord of earth and heaven knoweth
The human soul in all its heat and strife;
Out of His throne no stream of Lethe floweth.
But the clear river of eternal life.
He giveth life, ay, life in all its sweetness,
Old loves, old sunny scenes will He restore;
Only the curse of sin and incompleteness
Shall taint thine earth and vex thine heart no more.
Serve Him in daily work and earnest living.
And faith shall lift thee to His sunlit heights;
Then shall a psalm of gladness and thanks-giving
Fill the calm hour that comes between the lights.
