I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd Death's interposing veil, and thou so pure, Thy place in Paradise Beyond where I could soar; | Friend of this worthless heart! but happier thoughts Spring like unbidden violets from the sod, Where patiently thou tak'st Thy sweet and sure repose. | The shadows fall more soothing: the soft air Is full of cheering whispers like thine own; While Memory, by thy grave, Lives o'er thy funeral day; | The deep knell dying down, the mourners' pause, Waiting their Saviour's welcome at the gate.-- Sure with the words of Heaven Thy spirit met us there, | And sought with us along th' accustom'd way The hallow'd porch, and entering in, beheld The pageant of sad joy So dear to Faith and Hope. | O! hadst thou brought a strain from Paradise To cheer us, happy soul, thou hadst not touch'd The sacred springs of grief More tenderly and true, | Than those deep-warbled anthems, high and low, Low as the grave, high as th' Eternal Throne, Guiding through light and gloom Our mourning fancies wild, | 'Till gently, like soft golden clouds at eve Around the western twilight, all subside Into a placid faith, That even with beaming eye | Counts thy sad honours, coffin, bier, and pall; So many relics of a frail love lost, So many tokens dear Of endless love begun. | Listen! it is no dream: th' Apostles' trump Gives earnest of th' Archangel's;--calmly now, Our hearts yet beating high To that victorious lay, | (Most like a warrior's, to the martial dirge, Of a true comrade), in the grave we trust Our treasure for awhile: And, if a tear steal down, | If human anguish o'er the shaded brow Pass shuddering, when the handful of pure earth Touches the coffin-lid; If at our brother's name, | Once and again the thought, 'for ever gone,' Come o'er us like a cloud; yet, gentle spright, Thou turnest not away, Thou know'st us calm at heart. | One look, and we have seen our last of thee, Till we too sleep and our long sleep be o'er. O cleanse us, ere we view That countenance pure again, | THOU, who canst change the heart, and raise the dead! As Thou art by to soothe our parting hour, Be ready when we meet, With Thy dear pardoning words. | |