Time, that doth take what none would give, Whose wisdom men deride, Hath taught me, child, that I can live Without thee by my side. That time disedgeth grief for me I count almost a crime; But wherefore speak of time to thee Since thou art done with time? Thou mournest not thy ravished years In heaven, thy dwelling-place, For God hath wiped away the tears From thy unclouded face. I grope in ignorance, alone; Contentious cares are mine; Thou knowest now as thou art known: The peace of Christ is thine. Thy heavenly form I cannot see, Thy voice I cannot hear; I talk with One who talks with thee, Whom alway thou art near. The lesson 'twas so hard to learn A comfort 'tis to know— Thou never canst to me return, But I to thee must go. Thy earthly pains are ended now, And all this mortal strife Is alien unto thee, for thou Hast entered into life. Small satisfaction can I take On earth since thou hast died; But when I in His likeness wake I shall be satisfied. |