DEATH.
XLVIII.
DEATH UNAVOIDABLE.
To thy regions, World-eternal,
Onward, onward, is my face;
Resting spot in vain I wish for,
Till in thee I find my place:
Death’s dark portal,
Though so dark I must pass through.
When death’s cold and turbid waters,
To their bosom me receive,
Who will dissipate the darkness,
Who my terror will relieve?
If my Saviour
Smile, then fear will flee away.
XLIX.
THE LAMP.
I.
(THE MEASURE OF THE SECOND PART HAS BEEN CHANGED.)
A weary pilgrim sat,
Above a gloomy stream,
A lamp he firmly held
Shed round a cheerful gleam:
It showed that river’s farther banks,
Crowded with wistful spirit ranks.
He cometh to the stream,
Adown a rough ravine,
The lamp still in his hand
By friends above is seen;
And friends beyond can see him come,
His lamp reveals him through the gloom.
Now mid the rushing tide,
The Faithful One he sees
With arms spread open wide,
To bear him into Peace:
And in the world where he is gone,
They need no lamp nor light of sun.
II.
Down to that gloomy stream,
Creeps one in wild dismay;
The light of earthly joy
Fades gently, fades away:
There echo through the dismal shade,
Strange sounds by hideous monsters made.
The lamp he holds goes out—
O who can speak his pain!
For never shall he see
Its needed light again:
Victorious Death there boastful bides,
Twin Darkness his loud horror hides.
He lists with bated breath
Some friendly foot to hear,
With whispered word of hope,
Or lighted lamp draw near:
But foot of succour none doth sound,
While taunting demons sport around.
At length with piteous groan
He stumbles to the flood,—
A mortal made to know
The frowning love of God:
He sinks, he swims; now, all is o’er:
Hope must forsake him ever more.