Three years passed away, and the old man died,
Two households we were before:
Now we gathered all round this one fireside
Thirty years ago, and more.
And now, by these very same windows bright
My children are standing to-day,
Looking out on the green grass, the clouds so light,
The blue heaven that is far away.
Far away, but to their child-thought quite near,
For one has just entered there,
Who had told them God would soon call her home
To his heaven so bright and fair.
They were told God's call had come in the night,
"I did not hear him, mamma,"
"I can see no hole in the clouds all white,
Oh! how did she go, mamma?"
Ah! how do they go? There is answer none,
Be the last watch long or short,
As love holds each look of the dying one
In tender questioning thought.
It came all too soon, that first sad watch,
In the days of spring-time sweet,
He had come home to die, but dying found
The life in Him complete.
Deep sorrow, yet gladness, was ours that day,
When, gathered around his bed,
The Name humbly confessed as there he lay,
We shared in the broken bread.
Father, sister and friend and aunt were there,
And she who had loved so well,
With him through whose life it was holy joy
The glad news of hope to tell.
'Twas sudden and short on that winter day,
When death's vale by him was trod —
No time to think, no farewell could we say:
Father and son were with God.
Peaceful and calm did the aged one lie,
The corn sheaves for garnering drest;
"Yes, to live is Christ, but it's gain to die,"
And she entered into rest.
The watch was not sad, we could scarcely weep
Through those days of the new-born year,
She seemed like a tired child fallen asleep,
But the waking was not here.
She had wandered back to the summer days
And up to the golden gate;
On her lips were words of prayer and praise,
And we could but watch and wait.
And others have crossed to the further shore,
Though not from the old rooftree;
Kind hands closed his eyes, though no kith or kin,
Whose grave is beside the sea,
Where they laid him, though all too late they went
To see that gentle life close,
While with sound of funeral the marriage-bell blent —
So mingle life's joys and woes.
One passed, too, for long happy years a wife,
Who left us a blooming bride,
She quietly laid down the burden of life,
Fair children grown up by her side.
She had looked for new life with summer's warm breath,
Alas! she waited in vain,
The new life was hers, but of heaven, not of earth,
His mother meets Willie again.
I am sitting beside my nursery fire,
Watching my children at play,
And my thoughts go back to the long long years
Whose record is passed away.
They are passed away, but memory still
Calls those faces round me yet;
I hear their voices, am one in their midst,
An unbroken household met.
Ah, me! 'twas a home where goodness, and worth
Found ever a welcome meet,
And none would go, but they fain would renew
The happy memory sweet.
For a Christian life breathed its power around,
Nothing mean could entrance find,
Loving counsel and help alike were given,
Ever courteous, liberal, kind.
Each day brought to each its appointed task:
But the happy social time
Was when over the open book they talked
Of its prose or poet's rhyme;
Or discussion grew strong, deep truths were weighed,
Thought, satire, flashed out by turn;
Or in other moods these aside were laid,
Love's sweeter lesson to learn.
And music and song would the hours beguile
When the evening guests were there,
While the eager talk and the answering smile
Lighted up those faces fair.
But these dumb old walls give no echo back,
They have kept their secrets well,
Fond words have they heard while glad tears were shed,
But never a one they tell.
