But I do promise at the waking,
Old joys, and sorrows ripened to a mellow heart.
And e’en the crime-stained wretch, abasked in light,
Shall cast his seed and spring afruit!
Then do I cease to clutch the emptiness
And sleep, and sleep me unafeared!
What is it that affrights, she asks, when we think of death? It is the emptiness, she answers, the utter lack of knowledge of what lies beyond. And if we waken to “joys we ne’er have supped”—using the word sup in the sense of to taste or to know—what is there to attract us in the prospect? It is an illustration she presents of our attitude toward promises of joys with which we are unfamiliar; and which therefore do not greatly interest us—the child who casts aside a well beloved toy “for bauble that but caught the eye and left the heart ahungered.” Shall the joys, she makes us exclaim, which we have known here but barely tasted in this fleeting life, “be lost amid this promised bliss!” and shall we “search in vain to find a sorrow that had fleeted hence before our coming?”—meaning, apparently, shall we look there in vain for a loved one who has gone before? She answers these questions of the heart. Personality persists beyond the grave, she gives us plainly to understand. We take with us all of ourselves but the material elements. “Thou art ye,” she has said, “and I be me and ye be ye, aye, ever so.” The transition is but a change from the material to the spiritual. We “wake in yesteryear,” she says,—amid the friends and associations of the past; and the joys of that life, one must infer, are the spiritual joys of this one, the joy that comes from love, from good deeds, from work accomplished. For it is quite evident that she would have us believe that there is a continuous advancement in that other life.
And e’en the crime-stained wretch, abasked in light,
Shall cast his seed and spring afruit.
This can mean nothing else than that the hardened sinner, amid supernal influences, shall develop into something higher, and as no one can be supposed to be perfect when leaving earth, it follows that progress is common to all. Progress implies effort, and this indicates that there will be something for everyone to do—a view quite different from the monotony of eternal idleness.