OLD LETTERS.
163
The stiller for its vastness, as the sea
Doth soothe the sense with wide monotony
Of quiet waves unstirred. I saw thee kneel
Afar; the organ, as it were the Soul
Of many human souls, that did reveal
Their secrets, sighed, as on its stormy roll
It gathered them; my silent spirit drew
More close to those who prayed with me; I knew
That each of these still faces, where I see
No charm to bid me look again, doth make
The sunshine of some eye, and for its sake
The heavens and earth look fairer: each that here
Doth kneel, is loved of some, or hath been dear—
The treasure of some heart beneath the sod.
Oh, we are held unto the other near
When each is dear to one—and all to God!
Doth soothe the sense with wide monotony
Of quiet waves unstirred. I saw thee kneel
Afar; the organ, as it were the Soul
Of many human souls, that did reveal
Their secrets, sighed, as on its stormy roll
It gathered them; my silent spirit drew
More close to those who prayed with me; I knew
That each of these still faces, where I see
No charm to bid me look again, doth make
The sunshine of some eye, and for its sake
The heavens and earth look fairer: each that here
Doth kneel, is loved of some, or hath been dear—
The treasure of some heart beneath the sod.
Oh, we are held unto the other near
When each is dear to one—and all to God!
