That same evening Margaret gave me the following verses which she had written:
MENTONE.
"And there was given unto them a short time before they went forward."
| Upon this sunny shore |
| A little space for rest. The care and sorrow, |
| Sad memory's haunting pain that would not cease, |
| Are left behind. It is not yet to-morrow. |
| To-day there falls the dear surprise of peace; |
| The sky and sea, their broad wings round us sweeping, |
| Close out the world, and hold us in their keeping. |
| A little space for rest. Ah! though soon o'er, |
| How precious is it on the sunny shore! |
| Upon this sunny shore |
| A little space for love, while those, our dearest, |
| Yet linger with us ere they take their flight |
| To that far world which now doth seem the nearest, |
| So deep and pure this sky's down-bending light |
| Slow, one by one, the golden hours are given |
| A respite ere the earthly ties are riven. |
| When left alone, how, 'mid our tears, we store |
| Each breath of their last days upon this shore! |
| Upon this sunny shore |
| A little space to wait: the life-bowl broken, |
| The silver cord unloosed, the mortal name |
| We bore upon this earth by God's voice spoken, |
| While at the sound all earthly praise or blame, |
| Our joys and griefs, alike with gentle sweetness |
| Fade in the dawn of the next world's completeness. |
| The hour is thine, dear Lord; we ask no more, |
| But wait thy summons on the sunny shore. |
II
| "Thy skies are blue, thy crags as wild, |
| Thine olive ripe, as when Minerva smiled." |
| —Byron. |
"So having rung that bell once too often, they were all carried off," concluded Inness, as we came up.
"Who?" I asked.
"Look around you, and divine."