Zinzendorff and Other Poems/On the Death of a Friend
ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.
She passeth hence,—a friend from loving friends,
A mother from her children. Time hath shed
No frost upon her, and the tree of life
Glows in the freshness of its summer prime.—
Yet still she passeth hence: Her work on earth
Soon done and well. Hers was the unwavering mind,
The untiring hand in duty. Firm of soul
And pure in purpose, on the eternal Rock
Of Christian trust her energies reposed,
And sought no tribute from a shadowy world.
Her early hope and homage clave to God,
When the bright skies, the untroubled founts of youth
With all their song-birds, all their flowers rose up
To tempt her spirit. So, in hours of pain
He did remember her, and on her brow
And in her breast the dove-like messenger
Found peaceful home.
Oh thou whom grieving love
Would blindly pinion in this vale of tears,
Farewell! It is a glorious flight for faith
To trace thy upward path, above this clime
Of change and storm. We will remember thee
At thy turf-bed,—and 'mid the twilight hour
Of solemn musing, when the buried friend
Comes back so visibly, and seems to fill
The vacant chair, our speech shall be of thee.