ALL SAINTS DAY.
The quiet Church breathes incense of the saints,And holy peace of God, as one by one,The worshipers in silence bend the kneeAnd seem in very presence of their GodAnd of the dear ones now at home with Him.He holds the hand of each, both living, bothWith Him, sharing His love, His victory,His grace; but His forgiveness they need not.O wondrous life! when sin is past for aye!When we no longer grieve Him, nor endureSin's dreadful consequence and wretched blight.Lo! as we kneel, what voices fill our hearts?Voices of loved ones gone before to Him:And His dear Voice thrilling our inmost soul!What are the precious words each gently breathes?The husband trusted, leaned upon, who filledExclusively each fibre of the heart.That son we gloried over! that sweet girlWho shared our every thought and sympathy.That friend with whom our every plan was made:That leader who supplied our every needOf counsel, warning, or initiative,—Of everything we lacked in life's stern fight,Of comfort, confidence and sympathy.That father who was our ideal guide;That mother representing heaven to us;That wife with whom the light of life went out.These voices are in wonderful accord;One message breathes thro' all, for love is one;One harp of many strings, Heaven's mysteryAnd Earth's.—With bated breath our spirits hear;"My own! if you will learn to know His loveAs we now know it—if you will but learnHow short and precious are the days or yearsBefore you join us; and how much they meanTo His all-yearning heart Who works with you:
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