Page:Poems Proctor.djvu/147

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THE FLIGHT OF SOULS.
Like the rise and set of the starry host
Earth's myriads come and go;
Yet whence we speed through the infinite spaces—
Speed as the light and leave no traces—
And what the calm, on the pale, cold faces,
And whither we pass to our shining places
By far celestial isle and coast,
  O Lord, we may not know.

But we are thine, and thy peace descends
As our hearts cry out to Thee;
"Peace!" sigh the winds o'er the lone graves blowing,—
And we know that the stars the azure strewing,
And the souls whose life is thy bestowing,
Forever and ever to Thee are going—
To the Love that rise and set attends,
And the Glory that is to be!