254
IN MEMORIAM.
Was it the strength of human love That robbed the grave of its ghastly power?
Just a whisper of heavenly love Across the closed and lifeless lips;A shadowy touch of an angel's hand, Cold as ice to the finger-tips;A little step in the outer dark, A pulse of human and anxious fear;A clinging close to the Guiding Hand, Tenderly strong and always near.
But oh! the breaking of loving ties; The sad, sad years that are yet to come,When children listen and call in vain For a mother's voice forever dumb;The long days when the summer sun Shall shine athwart her place of rest,The autumns when the winds shall shake The leaves in showers on her breast;
The winters when the falling snow Shall whiten o'er the lowly mound,And like some folded winding-sheet, Drift slowly on the frozen ground.
