 | A Souvenir of the late Bishop Walsham How |  |
“To a Mother on the Death of Her Boy.”
1
Oh! banish him not from the spot he loved best,Let the name be familiar to tongue and to ear;
Oh! lock not your treasure too fast in your breast;—
Would he have you thus shy, when you hold him so dear?
2
There's a chill of reserve that is cruel, I think;And it's hard to break silence when years have gone by;
We live in the outward too wholly to shrink
From the sight or the sound that may bring heaven nigh.
3
I've a boy that has sailed to the lands of the West;Shall he never be near me by token or sign?
But earth has no land like the home of the Blest,
And I think that your dear one is nearer than mine.
4
Then look on his picture, and speak the fond word;Sing the song he loved best, though with tears in the eye;
Were it well that the heart should no longer be stirred
As the dream of the past in its beauty floats by?
5
Would he ask you to think of him only in grief?Nay, call him to share in your joy and your mirth;
Be simple and strong in your gladsome belief,
And the light of his joy shall fall bright on the earth.
6
Oh! forgive us, dear Lord, if, on earthly things set,Our hearts from our lost ones are drawn more and more.
Who knows but, if so we half learn to forget,
We may meet as half-strangers on heaven's sweet shore?
7
No! it shall not be thus, but in beauty and strengthYour boy shall be with you, a presence and joy
That shall fill all the home upon earth, till at length
God shall call you to visit the home of your boy.
W. W. W.
| A Souvenir of the late Bishop Walsham How | |