 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
IN MEMORIAM.
THE REV. HENRY WRIGHT.
Is then the world the sport of chance,
And under no controlling mind,
Whirled blindly on by every wind,
Plaything and jest of circumstance?
And under no controlling mind,
Whirled blindly on by every wind,
Plaything and jest of circumstance?
Are we but driven here and there,
Like leaves in autumn, sere and dead,
That lightly strew the ground we tread,
Or idly blown about in air?
Like leaves in autumn, sere and dead,
That lightly strew the ground we tread,
Or idly blown about in air?
Oh cruel irony of life—
With nothing sure from hour to hour,
Where lurks the poison 'neath the flower,
And sweetest cup with death is rife;
With nothing sure from hour to hour,
Where lurks the poison 'neath the flower,
And sweetest cup with death is rife;
316
Where lightnings rend the strongest tree,
And brightest morn is closed in cloud,
Where fairest face lies in the shroud,
And hope oft holds despair in fee.
And brightest morn is closed in cloud,
Where fairest face lies in the shroud,
And hope oft holds despair in fee.
And can it be God feels no pain,
Seated upon His happy throne,
As earth's unceasing wail and moan
Rises through all His Angels' strain
Seated upon His happy throne,
As earth's unceasing wail and moan
Rises through all His Angels' strain
To smite His ear with bitter cry,
To strike it through the Seraphs' songs,
And jar their music with the wrongs
Of human hearts that break and die?
To strike it through the Seraphs' songs,
And jar their music with the wrongs
Of human hearts that break and die?
Or is it true, as some men tell,
“Whatever is, is good and right,”
That in the darkest cloud is light,
And all that happens must be well?
“Whatever is, is good and right,”
That in the darkest cloud is light,
And all that happens must be well?
Why then leave feeble, palsied age,
A burden to itself and earth,
And taking all we hold of worth,
Sweep youth and strength from off the stage?
A burden to itself and earth,
And taking all we hold of worth,
Sweep youth and strength from off the stage?
Must that man, leprous with his sin,
Live on to vex the ear and eye;
And he untimely droop and die
Who unto angels was akin?
Live on to vex the ear and eye;
And he untimely droop and die
Who unto angels was akin?
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O God in Heaven! Thou knowest well
How worse than wasted some lives be,
Naught ever done for man or Thee,
But rather deeds befitting hell.
How worse than wasted some lives be,
Naught ever done for man or Thee,
But rather deeds befitting hell.
Why not from earth take one of these,
And leave the true souls with us still
Who strove to do Thy righteous will,
Consulting not for self or ease?
And leave the true souls with us still
Who strove to do Thy righteous will,
Consulting not for self or ease?
The Husband, Father, Pastor, Friend,
Loyal in each, to many dear,
Who kept his spirit pure and clear,
Whose life did always upward tend?
Loyal in each, to many dear,
Who kept his spirit pure and clear,
Whose life did always upward tend?
Peace, foolish heart! Look up and rise
Above the narrow walls of time,
And with untroubled faith sublime
Consider all with unsealed eyes.
Above the narrow walls of time,
And with untroubled faith sublime
Consider all with unsealed eyes.
His life, though brief, was not in vain;
He lived to do some noble deeds,
He lived to sow some precious seeds
Which shall bear fruit in ripened grain.
He lived to do some noble deeds,
He lived to sow some precious seeds
Which shall bear fruit in ripened grain.
Rich benedictions oft he had
For kindly deeds, and thoughtful care,
And children's love, the poor man's prayer,
With blessings of the sick and sad.
For kindly deeds, and thoughtful care,
And children's love, the poor man's prayer,
With blessings of the sick and sad.
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God reckons not our life by days,
Rather by all we live to do,
By hours redeemed for all things true,
Things just and worthy of all praise.
Rather by all we live to do,
By hours redeemed for all things true,
Things just and worthy of all praise.
To doubt is sin—God reigns on high,
Above the sorrow and the strife,
Above this dark, mysterious life,
And hears our helpless human cry.
Above the sorrow and the strife,
Above this dark, mysterious life,
And hears our helpless human cry.
To doubt is wrong—Our God is Love,
Although His ways are hid from sight,
Although in vain we search for light,
And in the deep His footsteps move.
Although His ways are hid from sight,
Although in vain we search for light,
And in the deep His footsteps move.
O Peace! The shadows soon shall pass,
And we the darkest ways shall trace,
The veil removed, and face to face
Shall see: not dimly through a glass.
And we the darkest ways shall trace,
The veil removed, and face to face
Shall see: not dimly through a glass.
Faith shall give place to clear-eyed sight,
And we, to fullest manhood grown,
Shall know all things as we are known,
And understand that all is right.
And we, to fullest manhood grown,
Shall know all things as we are known,
And understand that all is right.
So doubts fall from us one by one,
We see the good in seeming ill,
We bow to God's most holy will,
Content that His, not ours be done.
We see the good in seeming ill,
We bow to God's most holy will,
Content that His, not ours be done.
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |