Springs up with agonizing hold, on vast eternity?
Fain would we hear thee tell,
But ah!—the closing eye,
The fluttering, moaning sigh,
Speak forth the disembodied friend's farewell,
We toil to break the seal, with fruitless pain,
Time's fellowship is riven:—earth's question is in vain.
Yet we shall know
Thy mistery—thou who unexplained hast fled
Where secret things are read,
We after thee shall go
In the same path of woe
Down to the dead.
Oh Christ!—whose changeless trust
Went with her to the dust,
Whose spirit free,
Did shield her from the victor's power,
Suffer us not, in Death's dread hour
To fall from Thee.
Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/103
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102
LAST WORD OF THE DYING.