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 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
GOOD NIGHT.
And now for Death, the beautiful and strong,
With which so many years
This breaking heart hath lived, that turned to song
The sadness of its fears;
Known to me better far than child or wife,
And (may be) sweeter still
Than these, or the poor thin unliving life
Of anguish born and ill;
Why should I shrink from the appointed end,
That always was in sight—
From the dear face of a familiar friend?
Good night.
With which so many years
This breaking heart hath lived, that turned to song
The sadness of its fears;
Known to me better far than child or wife,
And (may be) sweeter still
Than these, or the poor thin unliving life
Of anguish born and ill;
Why should I shrink from the appointed end,
That always was in sight—
From the dear face of a familiar friend?
Good night.
Oh, I have loved, through my small humble span,
The suffering and the poor,
And in my measure tried to play the man,
At the dark cottage door;
This straining breast was stabbed by every pain,
If it a brother's thrilled,
And sacrifice I found a richer gain,
That more my coffers filled;
But was my work, in tears and travail done,
A desperate losing fight
Against tremendous odds, although Christ won;
Good night.
The suffering and the poor,
And in my measure tried to play the man,
At the dark cottage door;
This straining breast was stabbed by every pain,
If it a brother's thrilled,
And sacrifice I found a richer gain,
That more my coffers filled;
But was my work, in tears and travail done,
A desperate losing fight
Against tremendous odds, although Christ won;
Good night.
I do confess I feebly served my God,
Who here for mercy pray,
And with wild steps that stumbled oft, I trod
The stony upward way;
Though sure I am that under every mask
Which made my worship dim,
My heart of hearts was loyal in its task,
And pointed unto Him;
Perchance too much I valued human praise,
Or basked in earthly light,
But I have loved and others tried to raise—
Good night.
Who here for mercy pray,
And with wild steps that stumbled oft, I trod
The stony upward way;
Though sure I am that under every mask
Which made my worship dim,
My heart of hearts was loyal in its task,
And pointed unto Him;
Perchance too much I valued human praise,
Or basked in earthly light,
But I have loved and others tried to raise—
Good night.
822
It is not death, to which I slowly drift
From this vain fevered strife,
But the great ocean Love, which me will lift
To true and living Life;
I am not going far, I only mount
Into a higher room,
One step, and then the fulness of the Fount,
Whose waters here were gloom;
And though my darlings I may sorely miss,
The parting must be right,
And now I feel the Father's evening kiss—
Good night.
From this vain fevered strife,
But the great ocean Love, which me will lift
To true and living Life;
I am not going far, I only mount
Into a higher room,
One step, and then the fulness of the Fount,
Whose waters here were gloom;
And though my darlings I may sorely miss,
The parting must be right,
And now I feel the Father's evening kiss—
Good night.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |