 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
254
VI. SLEEP THEY NOT WELL?
Sleep they not well, the sainted dead?
For sorrow they have peace instead:
Our Father housed His children dear,
Before the tempest gathered near,
And burst in thunders loud and dread.
For sorrow they have peace instead:
Our Father housed His children dear,
Before the tempest gathered near,
And burst in thunders loud and dread.
Healed are the hearts that inly bled,
The mourning souls are comforted,
And stanched the fount of every tear;
Sleep they not well?
The mourning souls are comforted,
And stanched the fount of every tear;
Sleep they not well?
And if, until the Lord appear,
Earth, like a mother pressing near
To watch beside the loved one's bed,
Wraps her dark mantle round their head,
And shelters them from pain and fear,
Sleep they not well?
Earth, like a mother pressing near
To watch beside the loved one's bed,
Wraps her dark mantle round their head,
And shelters them from pain and fear,
Sleep they not well?
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |