And Other Poems.
93
A few short days ago, and those who rest
Held this poor lease of earth which now we hold;
The pulse of life beat strongly in each breast—
Ah! ’tis the same old story often told,
We know not when the spark may leave the mould.
Held this poor lease of earth which now we hold;
The pulse of life beat strongly in each breast—
Ah! ’tis the same old story often told,
We know not when the spark may leave the mould.
Oh brothers, there are weary hearts to-day,
And cheerless homes, where sorrow sits in gloom;
And lonely weeping ones, who can but pray,
“Thy will be done,” whilst bowing to their doom,
And longing for the meeting ’yond the tomb.
And cheerless homes, where sorrow sits in gloom;
And lonely weeping ones, who can but pray,
“Thy will be done,” whilst bowing to their doom,
And longing for the meeting ’yond the tomb.
Not ours to change the mystic second-birth,
Not ours to bring the loved ones back again,
But ours to do our duty upon earth,
By succouring the mourners who remain;
To them we’re linked in sympathetic chain.
Not ours to bring the loved ones back again,
But ours to do our duty upon earth,
By succouring the mourners who remain;
To them we’re linked in sympathetic chain.
To-day Humanity’s resistless breath
Sweeps through the credal barriers and brings
Us all together to the Church of Death—
The common fold of toilers and of kings:
And Charity broods o’er with outstretched wings.
Sweeps through the credal barriers and brings
Us all together to the Church of Death—
The common fold of toilers and of kings:
And Charity broods o’er with outstretched wings.
To-day the pure Christ-Spirit from above
With warm vibration thrills through every soul;
To-day we owe a sacred debt of Love;
To-day our Father claims a special toll
At gates which lead to Hope’s eternal goal.
With warm vibration thrills through every soul;
To-day we owe a sacred debt of Love;
To-day our Father claims a special toll
At gates which lead to Hope’s eternal goal.
