 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
How come the Dead?
How come the dead? we anxious ask,
When, parting from our sight,
The spirit leaves its earthly home,
To dwell in realms of light.
When, parting from our sight,
The spirit leaves its earthly home,
To dwell in realms of light.
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How come the dead? Shall we no more
The friends we love behold;
Nor clasp again within our arms,
Their forms so still, and cold?
The friends we love behold;
Nor clasp again within our arms,
Their forms so still, and cold?
The very question that we ask,
May its own answer give;
Is it the mortal that we mourn?
Our friends immortal live.
May its own answer give;
Is it the mortal that we mourn?
Our friends immortal live.
They come, though unperceived by sense,
Through memory's open door;
We see their looks, their voices hear,
Familiar as before.
Through memory's open door;
We see their looks, their voices hear,
Familiar as before.
They come; for hope will whisper still,
Undying in the heart;
That friends who love shall meet again,
Meet nevermore to part.
Undying in the heart;
That friends who love shall meet again,
Meet nevermore to part.
And faith, with heaven-directed gaze,
As seeing things concealed;
Declares the dead, with Christ, shall come,
When he shall be revealed!
As seeing things concealed;
Declares the dead, with Christ, shall come,
When he shall be revealed!
Poem No. 183; c. January 1868
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |