 | Poems |  |
365
SONG.
[Soon, o'er thy cold heart, the still grass will be growing]
Soon, o'er thy cold heart, the still grass will be growing;
Soon, o'er thy dulled brain will sift the winter's snow;
Through that calm heart, no hot blood will be flowing,
Through that blank brain no wild thoughts come and go.
Peace! Peace!
Think of death, and cease
To weary and to care for all that soon thou shalt not know!
Soon, soon,
Morn, eve, night, and noon,
Shall wander o'er thy mouldering clay, unknown to thee below;
These poor robes of thine no more shalt thou be wearing;
These poor dreams of earth to haunt thine eyes shall cease;
Hopes, griefs, and joys, why so for these be caring,
Things gone ere grasped? Peace, peace, thou poor heart, peace!
Soon, o'er thy dulled brain will sift the winter's snow;
Through that calm heart, no hot blood will be flowing,
Through that blank brain no wild thoughts come and go.
Peace! Peace!
Think of death, and cease
To weary and to care for all that soon thou shalt not know!
Soon, soon,
Morn, eve, night, and noon,
Shall wander o'er thy mouldering clay, unknown to thee below;
These poor robes of thine no more shalt thou be wearing;
These poor dreams of earth to haunt thine eyes shall cease;
Hopes, griefs, and joys, why so for these be caring,
Things gone ere grasped? Peace, peace, thou poor heart, peace!
What is this, the life that time to thee is giving?
What—what is all that earth can give to thee!
Gold, fairy-given, is all won by the living,
Dust ere its lustre well their eyes can see.
Peace! Peace!
Time itself shall cease,
Time how light a shadow on eternity!
Swift—swift
Death thy life shall life
Up into heaven's great perfect calm, to which no end shall be;
Thou art as a child from home a moment straying;
Hark! thy Father calls thee; let thy wailings cease!
Soon within His dwelling, all His love obeying,
Thou shalt still thy cries and smile. Peace, peace, thou poor heart, peace!
What—what is all that earth can give to thee!
Gold, fairy-given, is all won by the living,
Dust ere its lustre well their eyes can see.
Peace! Peace!
Time itself shall cease,
Time how light a shadow on eternity!
Swift—swift
Death thy life shall life
Up into heaven's great perfect calm, to which no end shall be;
Thou art as a child from home a moment straying;
Hark! thy Father calls thee; let thy wailings cease!
Soon within His dwelling, all His love obeying,
Thou shalt still thy cries and smile. Peace, peace, thou poor heart, peace!
Yet, O thou near life, beyond this life, unending,
Thou too canst give to life a priceless worth,
To these poor deeds of ours thou canst be lending,
To man's poor acts, a priceless heavenly worth;
Weigh, weigh
Man, thy deeds that may
Lift thee to, or sink thee far from a brighter birth;
All—all
Done here, past recall,
Plumes or maims thy heavenly pinions, child of earth;
Lo, thy deeds of good are wings on which thou mountest
Into higher spheres, when time for thee shall cease;
See, thy acts, the pinions on which then thou countest,
See, that these befit thee to soar to highest peace.
Thou too canst give to life a priceless worth,
To these poor deeds of ours thou canst be lending,
To man's poor acts, a priceless heavenly worth;
Weigh, weigh
Man, thy deeds that may
366
All—all
Done here, past recall,
Plumes or maims thy heavenly pinions, child of earth;
Lo, thy deeds of good are wings on which thou mountest
Into higher spheres, when time for thee shall cease;
See, thy acts, the pinions on which then thou countest,
See, that these befit thee to soar to highest peace.
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