He was not old, although the fruited years Were measured by a four-score written guage, His heart was young and laughed at whitened age With all its frailties and its common fears. Strong in his faith, a faith ingrained in youth, His Christ had worn for him a joyful mien, That often he in visioned prayer had seen, I knew it, for his life reflected Truth. Wise were his words, and yet was Wisdom's tongue Tempered and ruled by a kind father's love And soft his tone, as fluttered wing of dove When teaching needed lessons to the young. The children knew,—they sensed his finer soul, They gathered 'round, his hands were ever held In childish clasp, nor yet was one compelled Save in that love that gave him sweet control. His life was calm, though raging tempests stirred And sorrow churned its placid seas to foam, He crossed the bar and brought his frail craft home Through course once set by God's Eternal Word. He is not dead! No, that could never be, For Death is Life, and life not far away But pulsed with ours, and through the endless day He lives, and still his Spirit walks with me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SMALL SELF AND THE LIBERAL SELF by JAMES GALVIN TO RICHARD R. WRIGHT - INSTRUCTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEMOS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON HATCHING; FOR DAW AUNG SAN SUU KYI by KAREN SWENSON |