 | Le Cahier Jaune |  |
23
ALL THAT WE KNEW OF HIM.
We bore him from the little hall
That through the quiet years,
Had heard his laughing welcome fall
On none but loving ears.
That through the quiet years,
Had heard his laughing welcome fall
On none but loving ears.
There was no hint of winter wild,
No stir upon the hill;
October on the heights was mild
And in the plain was still.
No stir upon the hill;
October on the heights was mild
And in the plain was still.
Wrapt in the low-hung mist we moved;
Below us dimly seen
The shapely woodlands that he loved,
The stream that slips between.
Below us dimly seen
The shapely woodlands that he loved,
The stream that slips between.
We marked the red beech overhead
Her flaming pall unfold,
The poplars underfoot had spread
Their pale smooth store of gold.
Her flaming pall unfold,
The poplars underfoot had spread
Their pale smooth store of gold.
The year in dying shewed so fair,
We drew serener breath;
It seemed as though the very air
Were in the arms of death.
We drew serener breath;
It seemed as though the very air
Were in the arms of death.
24
Till calmer, freer still, we sit
Within the storied fane,
Where that harmonious soul was writ
On pillar and on pane.
Within the storied fane,
Where that harmonious soul was writ
On pillar and on pane.
And presently the words were said;
The love we could not tell;
And in the chambers of the dead
We bade our friend farewell,
The love we could not tell;
And in the chambers of the dead
We bade our friend farewell,
And lingering by the churchyard wall
We pause a little space,
And half forgetting, half recall
The love that lit his face.
We pause a little space,
And half forgetting, half recall
The love that lit his face.
And yet so gently fell the end
We cannot wholly weep;
He prayed, and smiled upon his friend,
And turning, fell asleep.
We cannot wholly weep;
He prayed, and smiled upon his friend,
And turning, fell asleep.
Even death, whom sufferers far and wide
Have found so great, so grim,
Stept smiling to that sweet fireside,
And spake of God with him.
Have found so great, so grim,
Stept smiling to that sweet fireside,
And spake of God with him.
What though he did not from fierce foes
The bleeding trophies tear,
Yet gently morn by morn arose
The incense of his prayer.
The bleeding trophies tear,
Yet gently morn by morn arose
The incense of his prayer.
25
They say that nought but hard-won fights
Can set poor souls above;
But is there none whom he invites
Through ministries of love?
Can set poor souls above;
But is there none whom he invites
Through ministries of love?
Some souls there be that fight but fret,
That act but agonize,
And in the dust of earth forget
The silence of the skies.
That act but agonize,
And in the dust of earth forget
The silence of the skies.
And oh dear friend whom neath the sod,
We lay so trustfully,
Oh in the labour house of God
What is prepared for thee?
We lay so trustfully,
Oh in the labour house of God
What is prepared for thee?
A day shall be when what we marr'd
He shall make whole and new,
And where we thought Him false or hard
He will prove kind and true.
He shall make whole and new,
And where we thought Him false or hard
He will prove kind and true.
Then shall we see the souls that slept
Alert without constraint,
And all whose earthly vesture kept
The royal spirit faint.
Alert without constraint,
And all whose earthly vesture kept
The royal spirit faint.
And kneeling at his Father's feet,—
Still smiling from the skies,—
The soul so strenuously sweet,
And so unworldly wise.
Still smiling from the skies,—
The soul so strenuously sweet,
And so unworldly wise.
Stoke Bishop, 1884. (J. F. Wickenden.)
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