[Four score and one, in] Blades o' Bluegrass choice selections of Kentucky poetry, biographical sketches and portraits of authors |
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 | [Four score and one, in] Blades o' Bluegrass |  |
82
“FOUR SCORE AND ONE.”
We wait for the gates to open,
Wait together, Faith and I,
And the twilight of Life comes sweetly,
As the years glide gently by.
From the past loved voices call us,
That call from the future too;
And we know, by the tokens left us
Of a life serene and true,
That soon, on some bright to-morrow,
When the wings of this flesh are furl'd,
We shall join them again, and forever,
In that brighter and better world.
Wait together, Faith and I,
And the twilight of Life comes sweetly,
As the years glide gently by.
From the past loved voices call us,
That call from the future too;
And we know, by the tokens left us
Of a life serene and true,
That soon, on some bright to-morrow,
When the wings of this flesh are furl'd,
We shall join them again, and forever,
In that brighter and better world.
We know not, we ask not, we think not—
For we do not care to learn—
If the gates to that world are of jasper,
Or on golden hinges turn;
Nor whether, when once within them,
On diamonded streets we tread,
So that there, in the light and the glory
Of God, we shall meet with the dead—
With the dead, who have gone before us,
And the wings of the spirit unfurl'd
To the beauty and brightness and glory
Of that other and better world.
For we do not care to learn—
If the gates to that world are of jasper,
Or on golden hinges turn;
Nor whether, when once within them,
On diamonded streets we tread,
So that there, in the light and the glory
Of God, we shall meet with the dead—
With the dead, who have gone before us,
And the wings of the spirit unfurl'd
To the beauty and brightness and glory
Of that other and better world.
Still the old familiar faces
From old coverts sweetly look,
And we hear glad voices singing
With the breeze and with the brook;
Yet we know that they are but echoes
And reflections from above;
So, from earth we turn to heaven
For the beings of our love.
And we wait for the gates to open,
Wait together, Faith and I,
While the Night comes down with its shadows,
And the Day is drawing nigh.
From old coverts sweetly look,
And we hear glad voices singing
With the breeze and with the brook;
Yet we know that they are but echoes
And reflections from above;
So, from earth we turn to heaven
For the beings of our love.
And we wait for the gates to open,
Wait together, Faith and I,
While the Night comes down with its shadows,
And the Day is drawing nigh.
W. D. Gallagher.
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