Poems | ||
188
TO MY BROTHER
My brother, latest of so many, passedAcross the unknown dark sea, where we all
Must follow, as our days and hours are cast:
I speak to thee, I touch the dreadful pall,
To lay thine own bay-leaves upon thy bier.
It may be in the arcane truths of God,
Thou still dost feel this touch, dost feel and hear,
And recognizest still the cold green sod,
Immensely far yet infinitely near!
Thou who hast shown how much the steadfast soul
Bears abnegation, how an ideal goal
Robs life, how singleness of heart hopes long,
And how, by suffering sanctified, the song
From the inner shrine becomes more just and strong.
Poems | ||