Poems (Sharpless)/The Little While

by Frances M. Sharpless

THE LITTLE WHILE

Six years! six years, beloved! since we were parted;
    Thou on the further side;
I left on this, where often, lonely-hearted,
    I watch life's ebbing tide.

Is it the same old world, whose glowing splendor
    Raptured with joy mine eyes?
Is this the life that was so warm and tender
    That now so barren lies?

For him who once hath walked alone with Sorrow,
    And met her stern, deep gaze,
Never shall dawn again another morrow
    Like the glad yesterdays.

Yet not for idle brooding nor affliction
    Hath Death such full control;
Sorrow, dark angel! hath her benediction
    For the submissive soul.

Secrets the sweetest hath she in her keeping,
    And with a solemn smile,
Whispers assurance 'mid our selfish weeping,
    'Tis for a little while.

A little while for loneliness and grieving
    For us who tarry yet;
A little while! and brief past all believing
    When parted souls have met.

Oh, Gracious Lord! behold our desolation!
    Thou who didst thus console
Thy weak disciples, be the consolation
    Of each afflicted soul.

We ask no Lethe, wish for no forgetting
    Of all our dear, dear Dead,
But that this futile anguish of regretting
    To patience pass instead.

And for the little while among the shadows
    That each grieved heart may be
Strengthened to labor in the harvest meadows
    More wholly given to Thee.