Poems (Curwen)/Deus Vobiscum
Deus Vobiscum.
What, oh what, will the New Year bring? My muse was silent—I could not sing; For my thoughts had all gone out to thee, And my soul was sad from sympathy.
I thought of thy vigil so lone and long, And my lips could frame no words of song To greet the birth of the new-born year, For my heart was full of a nameless fear.
Poor stricken heart! The New Year's bells To thee were ringing funeral knells; Soon, all too soon, thy watch was o'er, And his feet had passed to the "silent shore."
"Life's fitful fever" is over now, The seal of Peace on thy dear one's brow; For him has come the dawning clear Of an eternal glad New Year.
Dear heart! I know thy load of care And grief must seem too hard to bear, And on this tide of sorrow tossed Hope's beacon light is well-nigh lost.
But He who gave to thee this cross Can give you strength to bear the loss; May He thy fainting soul sustain Till in His haven you meet again!