Poems (Procter)/Sent to Heaven

by Adelaide Anne Procter

SENT TO HEAVEN.

HAD a message to send her, To her whom my soul loved best;But I had my task to finish, And she was gone home to rest.

To rest in the far bright Heaven: O, so far away from here,It was vain to speak to my darling, For I knew she could not hear!

I had a message to send her, So tender, and true, and sweet,I longed for an Angel to bear it, And lay it down at her feet.

I placed it, one summer evening, On a Cloudlet's fleecy breast;But it faded in golden splendor, And died in the crimson west.

I gave it the Lark, next morning, And I watched it soar and soar;But its pinions grew faint and weary, And it fluttered to earth once more.

To the heart of a Rose I told it; And the perfume, sweet and rare,Growing faint on the blue bright ether, Was lost in the balmy air.

I laid it upon a Censer, And I saw the incense rise;But its clouds of rolling silver Could not reach the far blue skies.

I cried, in my passionate longing:— "Has the earth no Angel-friendWho will carry my Love the message That my heart desires to send?"

Then I heard a strain of music, So mighty, so pure, so clear,That my very sorrow was silent, And my heart stood still to hear.

And I felt, in my soul's deep yearning, At last the sure answer stir:—"The music will go up to Heaven, And carry my thought to her."

It rose in harmonious rushing Of mingled voices and strings,And I tenderly laid my message On the Music's outspread wings.

I heard it float farther and farther, In sound more perfect than speech;Farther than sight can follow, Farther than soul can reach.

And I know that at last my message Has passed through the golden gate:So my heart is no longer restless, And I am content to wait.