The Two Brothers, and other poems By Edward Henry Bickersteth |
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| II. |
| III. | III.
TRANSLATED, NOT CONFIRMED.
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| IV. |
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| VII. |
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 | The Two Brothers, and other poems |  |
204
III. TRANSLATED, NOT CONFIRMED.
TO ONE WHO WITH ME WATCHED THE PARTING HOURS OF A CANDIDATE FOR CONFIRMATION.
Together we leant
O'er her fragile form,
As her head she bent
To the long last storm.
O'er her fragile form,
As her head she bent
To the long last storm.
There was nothing of fear
In that dying room,
For Jesus was near
And chased its gloom.
In that dying room,
For Jesus was near
And chased its gloom.
We ask'd if she felt
His presence was nigh,
And the deep answer dwelt
In her up-lighted eye.
His presence was nigh,
And the deep answer dwelt
In her up-lighted eye.
“Have you cast on His cross
The weight of your sin?
Is the world but loss?
Is there peace within?”
The weight of your sin?
205
Is there peace within?”
On the calm of that hour,
Why further press,
When we knew the power
Of her gentle “Yes”?
Why further press,
When we knew the power
Of her gentle “Yes”?
She is gone—as a child
On its mother's breast;
She look'd up, and smiled,
And sank to rest.
On its mother's breast;
She look'd up, and smiled,
And sank to rest.
The waves are all pass'd,
The word has been given,
Though roughest at last,
They have borne her to heaven.
The word has been given,
Though roughest at last,
They have borne her to heaven.
But “a little while,”
And our summons will come—
Oh, then with her smile
To ascend to her home!
And our summons will come—
Oh, then with her smile
To ascend to her home!
Tunbridge Wells, 1852.
| The Two Brothers, and other poems | |