Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WAITING THE CHANGE, by PHOEBE CARY



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WAITING THE CHANGE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I have no moan to make
Last Line: Must wait my appointed time.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


I HAVE no moan to make,
No bitter tears to shed;
No heart, that for rebellious grief,
Will not be comforted.

There is no friend of mine
Laid in the earth to sleep;
No grave, or green or heaped afresh,
By which I stand and weep.

Though some, whose presence once
Sweet comfort round me shed,
Here in the body walk no more
The way that I must tread,

Not they, but what they wore
Went to the house of fear;
They were the incorruptible,
They left corruption here.

The veil of flesh that hid
Is softly drawn aside;
More clearly I behold them now
Than those who never died.

Who died! what means that word
Of men so much abhorred?
Caught up in clouds of heaven to be
Forever with the Lord!

To give this body, racked
With mortal ills and cares,
For one as glorious and as fair,
As our Redeemer wears;

To leave our shame and sin,
Our hunger and disgrace;
To come unto ourselves, to turn
And find our Father's face;

To run, to leap, to walk,
To quit our beds of pain,
And live where the inhabitants
Are never sick again;

To sit no longer dumb,
Nor halt, nor blind; to rise --
To praise the Healer with our tongue,
And see him with our eyes;

To leave cold winter snows,
And burning summer heats,
And walk in soft, white, tender light,
About the golden streets.

Thank God! for all my loved,
That out of pain and care,
Have safely reached the heavenly heights,
And stay to meet me there!

Not these I mourn; I know
Their joy by faith sublime --
But for myself, that still below
Must wait my appointed time.





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