SHE is at rest, In God's own presence blest, Whom, while with us, this day we loved to greet; Her birthdays o'er, She counts the years no more; Time's footfall is not heard along the golden street. When we would raise A hymn of birthday praise, The music of our hearts is faint and low; Fear, doubt, and sin Make dissonance within; And pure soul-melody no child of earth may know. That strange "new song," Amid a white-robed throng, Is gushing from her harp in living tone: Her seraph voice, Tuned only to rejoice, Floats upwards to the emerald-arched throne. No passing cloud Her loveliness may shroud; The beauty of her youth may never fade; No line of care Her sealed brow may wear; The joy-gleam of her eye no dimness e'er may shade. No stain is there Upon the robes they wear Within the gates of pearl which she hath passed; Like woven light, All beautiful and bright, Eternity upon those robes no shade may cast. No sin-born thought May in that home be wrought To trouble the clear fountain of her heart; No tear, no sigh, No pain, no death, be nigh Where she hath entered in, no more to "know in part." Her faith is sight, Her hope is full delight, The shadowy veil of time is rent in twain: Her untold bliss -- What thought can follow this! To her to live was Christ, to die indeed is gain. Her eyes have seen The King, no veil between, In blood-dipped vesture gloriously arrayed: No earth-breathed haze Can dim that rapturous gaze; She sees Him face to face on whom her guilt was laid. A little while, And they whose loving smile Had melted 'neath the touch of lonely woe, Shall reach her home Beyond the star-built dome; Her anthem they shall swell, her joy they too shall know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GRAVE OF A POETESS by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS GO DOWN DEATH; A FUNERAL SERMON by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM by EDGAR ALLAN POE ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT by JONATHAN SWIFT TO S.M., A YOUNG AFRICAN PAINTER, ON SEEING HIS WORKS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY 11TH R.S.R. by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE IDLE SINGER: REACTION by QUINTIN BONE |