Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IN MEMORIAM: T.C.P., by SAMUEL VALENTINE COLE

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IN MEMORIAM: T.C.P., by            
First Line: Skies were not yet red with sunset, far off still
Last Line: One hand beckoning, and the other resting on the shining goal.
Subject(s): Memory

SKIES were not yet red with sunset, far off still the evening bell,
Only sights and sounds of midday eye and ear could seem to tell,
And we knew not that our greeting was the greeting of farewell;

Did not know, in our rejoicing, that the hour had waxed so late,
That the tides were sobbing seaward which can neither turn nor wait,
And already in our presence stood the Opener of the Gate.

Thin the vail that hides the future we have never seen nor can,
And that future somehow mingles strangely in the life of man,
While we see in part, and only see in part, the Father's plan.

Every life hath its completeness—Are there not twelve hours still
In the day?—and whosoever makes his own the Master's will,
Living, dying, staying, going, doth the circle all fulfill.

Friend of ours, we did not tell thee all we might have told that day;
Many another thing we cherished in our heart of hearts to say,
Had we known it was expedient thou so soon shouldst go away.

We were looking for achievement, and the victory had been won;
For the golden years of service—with the sands so nearly run;
Yea, we thought it the beginning, when God said thy work was done.

We shall not forget thee—never, while the way before us towers;
Something from thy life in passing touched the inner springs in ours;
Thou henceforth art in alliance there with God's uplifting powers.

Thou art here; lo, thou art yonder, where the heavenly seasons roll,
Where in light and life immortal ends the pathway of the soul,—
One hand beckoning, and the other resting on the shining goal.

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