POEMS.
115
In grand, unearthly cadence, in that land
Where only God and angels understand.
Where only God, thy Judge, with mercy blent,
Knows how to tune His living instrument.
Where only God and angels understand.
Where only God, thy Judge, with mercy blent,
Knows how to tune His living instrument.
Then take thy rest,
O weary spirit—wearied with the strife
And disappointment in the march of life
Thine earthly burdens death hath smoothed away
The angel of the Resurrection Day
Points to seraphic choirs, whose pure notes ring
Sweet as thine own,—but freed from suffering!
O weary spirit—wearied with the strife
And disappointment in the march of life
Thine earthly burdens death hath smoothed away
The angel of the Resurrection Day
Points to seraphic choirs, whose pure notes ring
Sweet as thine own,—but freed from suffering!
"SHE IS NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPETH."
TO die in sleep! Sad sound the words or sweet
On sorrowing hearts, sore bowed in grief today;
A journey ended, and two weary feet
At rest, passed peacefully from earth away.
Methinks it were a blessèd lot and fair,
Thus to depart from sorrow, sin, and care.
On sorrowing hearts, sore bowed in grief today;
A journey ended, and two weary feet
At rest, passed peacefully from earth away.
Methinks it were a blessèd lot and fair,
Thus to depart from sorrow, sin, and care.
To die in sleep! The pain of parting spared,
The tearful eyes to miss, the last good-bye
Unuttered to the dear ones who have shared
Each wandering thought, and quivered at each sigh.
And thus to die! what grief can be in this,
If sealèd lips have felt the Master's kiss?
The tearful eyes to miss, the last good-bye
Unuttered to the dear ones who have shared
Each wandering thought, and quivered at each sigh.
And thus to die! what grief can be in this,
If sealèd lips have felt the Master's kiss?
