No sunset fades; its palpitating glory Of blue and crimson never wholly dies, But, in the joy of some remembered story, Glows to the welcome of immortal skies. No blossom perishes; with bloom unfading Its petals ope in everlasting light, Its infant amaranthine fragrance lading The breezes of celestial meadows bright. No music ceases; mystically holden, Deep in the heart of ether it abides, And will return to us the rapture olden Over the shining of eternal tides. No feeling dies, no sacred sweet emotion, No lover's kiss, no children's laugh, no prayer; All are a part of time's unending ocean, And we shall find them, some day, surely, there. What though our eyes, our ears, our dullard passion Follow them not to their abiding home? Soon will they glad us in familiar fashion When to their deathless mansions we have come. |